


The Death of Felicity Smoak

by Niaa



Series: Within the Walls of Nanda Parbat [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bondage, Brainwashing, Branding, Bride of the Demon, Dark, Dominance, F/M, Identity change, League of Assassins - Freeform, NO torture, Nanda Parbat, Only mentions of it with no specific details given, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niaa/pseuds/Niaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have  happened if Felicity refused to let go of Oliver when he accepted his role in the League of Assassins. Canon divergence from s03e21, based around the themes of that episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedding Night

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I would like to warn you that there is some content in this fic that might make some people uncomfortable. Keep the tags in mind before proceeding. This is heavily based on the themes of the League of Assassins, and is quite a dark and I believe realistic take on what would have happened if Felicity went after Oliver and was actually allowed to marry him. 
> 
> Remember, this Oliver has already been brainwashed by the League and accepted his new role. He is not the person we know from the show.

She could still see the shock and anger in his eyes. It was only there for a second before he returned to his previous mask of stone, but that look would most likely haunt her for days. 

It was only after their wedding vows have been said and he removed the veil from her face that he saw who she was. Al Sah-him had married the woman Oliver Queen loved and Felicity Smoak was now the Bride of the Demon. She could still picture the way his hands clenched beside her face and any other reasonable person would have flinched at that, but Felicity was tired of being reasonable.

She met his eyes with fire in her own, not willing to back down an inch from his dark cruel gaze. His hand was at her chin then, lifting her head up and he sealed their union with a kiss. That was when she flinched. His lips were cold against her own, barely touching her. It was as if she was the last person he wanted to kiss right then and a wave of rejection washed over Felicity before she steeled herself. 

The bond they created would be for life, and there was nothing that even Oliver could do to break it. She came here for him, she came there for them, to restore a part of him that was buried by Ra’s al Ghul. He was not the same person anymore and she knew that he could never be the Oliver that she knew before, the Oliver that had loved her for so long. She had a grueling task ahead, to make Al Sah-him love her.

After the wedding ceremony she was escorted to the chamber where they spent their only night together. It would end up being the first of many. Now as his wife, Felicity was required to stand by his side, support him and provide him with heirs. 

Luckily for her, it was that last duty that would allow the woman to get closer to the man that was now her husband. At the end of the day, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the reason she truly came here was for her. He wanted her to be happy, that is what he said when they parted. And there was no world in which she could be happy without him. She would go to the ends of the Earth to just be able to be near him again, even if she had to put up with his cold and cruel gaze, his lack of emotions as he took one life after another. 

What she didn’t expect however, was his coldness directed at her. Her gaze lingered on him as his own burned into her when she was led away from him. She had to hold back tears then. 

Her eyes were slightly red, her head tilted down as she stood by the window waiting for him to arrive. No, she couldn’t let him hurt her like this, she had to be strong for the both of them. Otherwise neither of them would survive in this cold and cruel place that was their new home. 

Felicity’s head snapped up when she heard the door open. She straightened her frame, her hands fidgeting by her sides for a moment as she saw him enter the room. He wasn’t looking at her yet, as he turned around to close the door behind himself. It seemed like he was delaying the moment as much as he could, but there was no delaying it anymore after the door fell shut. 

He turned to face her slowly and she could finally see the full extent of anger shining in his eyes, the glimpse of which she saw at their wedding.

“What do you think you are doing here?” 

His voice sent a chill through her spine and Felicity shivered before she gathered all of her strength and stepped towards him. “I came here for you.”

His nostrils flared, fists tightening at his side as he barely contained the growing anger within his body. “I told you to leave,” he hissed out. 

Her steps became bolder until she stopped just a foot away from him, her head tilting up and her eyes meeting his. ‘And I told you I love you. I am _not_ leaving you, Oliver,” she stated with the stubbornness that he once loved.

His eyes closed for a second. The waves of anger were getting higher and higher and the woman was doing nothing to appease them. “Oliver Queen is dead,” He growled out at Felicity, stepping closer to her, leaning into her personal space. He saw her resolve falter for a moment. Good. “Do not call me that again.”

Her lips twisted into a defiant smile for a moment. “Whatever you say, husband mine.” 

Another growl came from him and his hand shot up to wrap around her neck, making her gasp in surprise. She didn’t flinch or try to free herself of his hold, her trust in him not broken by anything. “Do you have any idea what you have gotten yourself into?” he said as his hand tightened ever so slightly around her throat. “There is no way out of this place for you now! You will find no happiness here that you were hoping for with Oliver Queen,” he snarled at her face.

Her eyes were wide, the nearness of his harshly set face having caught her complete attention. 

He searched her eyes in those moments of silence and when he didn’t find any of her resilience lessening he lowered his head with a sigh, his grip around her neck loosening into something that was almost warm, his fingers stroking the soft skin for a moment. 

This time when he spoke his voice was quiet. “Al Sah-him will offer you nothing but suffering,” he said softly, his thumb continuing its slow stroking of her flesh and in that moment Felicity could say once again that the man that stood before her was Oliver Queen. “He will turn your children into killers. He is a monster that can never be the loving husband that you deserve,” he whispered. His gaze was pleading as his hands came up to cup her face, his large hands enveloping her in a familiar hold that promised safety. 

“Well, Al Sah-him,” she begun softly, her voice as quiet as his, not breaking their gaze. “Like you said yourself, there is no place for me to go now.”

His eyes closed and he leaned forward, touching his forward to hers as he inhaled deeply. His shoulders were set, this time in pain, not in anger. “Say one word,” he whispered, opening his blue eyes again to meet hers. “And I will get you out of here.” He could do that. He could make her vanish. Say that she ran, too scared of the life that now lay before her as the wife of the Demon. It would have scared any sane person there was outside the League. And it would be his duty to find her and kill her. He would figure something out. He could get her away from this.

“No,” the word was soft, but it might as well have been scalding oil being poured over open wounds with the love in her eyes hurting him even more if that was possible. 

Al Sah-him’s eyes closed once again and his hands squeezed her face between them for a second before they dropped to his side, all physical contact lost between the two as he straightened his spine. 

“Very well then,” he said coldly, all traces of Oliver Queen gone from his features. He gave her a choice to get out of this, but she refused to take it. The man stepped around his newly wedded wife proceeding to the same spot she had spent her time waiting for him. 

“Take off my clothes,” he commanded. 

Felicity stood still for a moment before she slowly turned to face him, taking him in. He wasn’t looking at her, his face the same mask of stone it had been during their wedding ceremony. He looked like a soldier in his stillness, a soldier who was waiting for his armour to be removed after a battle. 

She stepped towards him, not hiding the mesmerization from her features. He could say what he wanted, how he would make her suffer, but the greatest suffering she could imagine for herself was living a life away from him. Her hands were steady as they rose to unbuckle his thick belt as she begun undressing her husband. 

He didn’t move an inch, didn’t look at her as she slowly went about removing the layers of clothing from him. Each piece that Felicity removed she placed on the rectangular table beside them. The silence made it more of a ritualistic process. That is what he wanted it to be, but the woman had other plans.

She kept her gaze lowered so as he wouldn’t catch the gleam in her eyes. That gleam vanished, however, when she took his black shirt off. It was the final layer covering his upper body. She was standing behind him at that time and when her hands removed the cotton from his body, the arrow that had been burnt into his skin was right before her eyes. She couldn’t hold back the gasp of surprise as she stood still.

Felicity had seen the man’s shirtless body countless times in the three years that they worked together, she could swear that she knew every inch of his chest and back. Every time he took his shirt off, she couldn’t help but search his skin for new scars. Those appeared often, some big some small. And her eyes would linger on them, and more often then not he would catch her gaze, a smile playing on his lips. And she would huff and return her attention back to her monitors, but not before giving him a stern glare and telling him that he should be more careful. 

Now however, she couldn’t bring herself to do that. She stood still for what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been more then a few moments before lifting her hand up to trace her finger over the arrow burnt into his flesh. 

“Continue,” he ordered harshly, his shoulders becoming squared and her hands shooting back to her sides. She could picture the ugly expression of anger that would mar his face but by the time she stepped around him, his face was devoid of all emotions once again. 

She bit her lip as she knelt down to unlace his boots where he couldn’t see her expression, emotions warring inside her. No, she couldn’t get distracted like this. She already knew that the League had hurt him immensely to make him the person he was today. Right now, she needed to focus her attention on other matters. 

Al Sah-hm helped her, stepping out of his boots when they were unlaced. When his feet were bare, Felicity rose on her knees to remove his pants. She had to bite her bottom lip hard to stop the satisfied smirk from settling on them. The man could pretend however much he liked that he was an emotionless icicle, he could not however, hide his physical reactions to her close presence. 

After undoing his pants, she lowered them at the same time as his underwear, taking off the last items that were covering his body and just so happened to brush the backs of her fingers along his hardened length in the process. 

There was a hiss that echoed above her, the contact surprising him out of his stoicism followed by a sound that was close to a snarl that made Felicity duck her head and hurry with her task as a full grin split her face. 

The blonde rose quickly to her feet, turning away from him before going to place his folded pants onto the table. When she returned, her expression was somehow schooled back into a neutral one as she came to a stop right in front of him, raising her head to meet his gaze with her same stubborn one that he was greeted with before. 

His gaze finally met hers, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to her. Their roles were now reversed as he took her clothes off, peeling back the layers from her body. The man’s fingers were surprisingly gentle, one tip tracing her collarbone before he removed her outer robe. His movements were completely calm as he went through to what was turning out to be a much more ritualistic process then Felicity thought it would be, and it would be the same on nearly every night from now on in their married life. 

The blonde’s eyes closed, her body relaxing as the man’s calloused fingers unlaced her corset. She could have forgotten everything else in that moment, but the last piece of clothing covering her chest soon left her skin, and left her shivering as Al Sah-him placed it on the table. His eyes were dark when he returned to stand before her, crouching down to remove her black panties. 

Felicity shivered as his warm hands descended from her hips down to her knees and she stepped out of the underwear. It felt completely different standing before him as she was now from what it was during the first time he saw her body. 

When he returned from the table the final time, she had to bite her lower lip to stop a gasp from escaping. 

His eyes were stormy as he studied her face without a word, his hand rising to cup her chin, stroking her lower lip to release it from the assault she was placing on it. Felicity had to make an effort not to bite it again as she tried to deter her mind from making a decision on whether she should ramble on about how gorgeous he looked or the ridiculousness of the rituals he made them go through. 

“I have a task ahead of me that I fully intend to accomplish,” he spoke finally, his voice rough, as he gazed into her eyes, his finger still stroking her lip. 

“Oh?” she couldn’t help but ask. She had been quiet for too long. 

“I intend to purge Oliver Queen from your mind. You are my wife now, and I will be the only man to occupy your thoughts,” he whispered, his eyes darkening even further. 

“Well, good luck with that,” the woman quipped. 

She could have sworn that his gaze couldn’t have gotten any darker, but it did in that moment as tendrils of anger returned to those blue irises. Felicity didn’t get to study them too much because in the next instant the man was lowering his head as his hold on her chin tightened turning her head sideways before he planted his mouth on the spot where her neck met her shoulder. 

“Ah!” the gasp that escaped her lips was louder than she thought it would be, her toes curling as Al Sah-him delivered her punishment with his mouth. He sucked her skin in past his lips, grazing it with his teeth repeatedly until it was tender under his touch. He released the now red flesh from his hold, soothing it with his tongue as the woman’s eyes focused on something in the distance. Neither of them noticed that her hands rose to grip his arms. Had he been able to look into her gaze, he would have seen a kind of deliriousness there and not the discomfort that he expected. 

“Do not mistake me for him,” he growled into her ear as he released her chin, her composure still surprisingly relaxed apart from the hold on his arms. His left hand had come to settle on her hip, the grip firm but warm at the same time. 

“Oh!” His fingers pulled sharply on her nipple and heat begun pooling in her body. And then he began to speak in that stern tone of voice again. How on Earth did he expect her to listen after what he did to her body? 

‘Let me remind you again,” Al Sah-him spoke, his fingers giving another tug. “This marriage is not going to be like a fairytale. I am Heir to the Demon and you are my wife,” he stated, emphasizing the word with another sharp tug. Felicity had to bite her lip not to make another sound. “You _will_ obey.” 

The sound that left Felicity’s lips would have been a moan if she wasn’t clenching her jaw to try to keep it inside when he gave another pull. Was he seriously lecturing her on the topic of their new stations when holding her hip and touching her naked breast? Was it his idea of a punishment? If so, then he could sign her right on up for more of that. Did he know how aroused the whole process made her? Seriously. Sure, she would obey him. Whatever floated his boat. But really, this undressing ritual that he made them go through was torturous. She was not a woman who could keep her hands to herself under those conditions, Mister Heir to the Demon.

The blonde blinked at the complete stillness in the room, frowning up at the strange expression on her husband’s face. Al Sah-him was displaying an emotion that was not anger for the first time since he entered the room, and that emotion was disbelief. 

“Oh crap.” She said everything out loud. 

The woman was considering running for the hills right about then when his hand lowered from her chest to her hip and he heaved a great sigh, his head lowering until his chin almost touched his chest. 

“Go stand by the fireplace,” he said quietly, and for the first time his voice did not hold that force of command. It was still present, but somewhere in the back. 

Oh, crap. 

Felicity had to put legitimate effort into loosening her grip on his arms before stepping away from him. Her hands fidgeted slightly as the proceeded to the fireplace and the burning flame within. Once there, she turned to face away from it, her bottom lip lodged between her teeth. 

She knew what was coming next, had been informed of the last step in her initiation into the League by Ra’s himself when she stormed up to him, demanding a place close to Oliver. Felicity had been shocked by the fact that she could become his wife. As Ra’s said, the bride of the next Demon’s Head was rarely chosen from outside the League. If she was to marry the man, she would have to become a member of the League of Assassins herself. The last step was what made her falter. She didn’t think twice about giving up everything she had, including her identity, but being branded by a hot iron was something she had to think over for the few moments that she did have before Ra’s demanded the final answer from her. 

It was after she had given her yes that the man told her that Oliver himself would be the one branding her. A part of her still refused to believe that the man she loved, a man who loved her, could cause her such pain. Now though, she was starting to consider the opposite to be truer. And she didn’t know what to make of it yet. 

Al Sah-him followed right after her, putting the poker in the flame to heat up. 

She couldn’t help but shiver as he stepped closer to her. 

“Raise your arms over your head,” he said softly as he came to stand inches behind her. They were not touching, but she could feel the heat radiating from his skin to hers. 

Her arms trembled as she lifted them up and he caught them halfway, assisting her with his warm hold. He tied her wrists with the ropes that were hanging from the ceiling, securing them in place. 

“Hold on to them,” he whispered into her ear as he twisted the ropes so that they lay in the palms of her hands. 

Her shoulders were tense as her hands gripped the rope to ground herself. 

“Close your eyes,” he murmured into her ear, still standing very close to her. His hands ran up and down her arms until he felt her relax somewhat. Because no matter what was about to happen, her body still remembered his, the warmth and safety that she could always associate with him. 

“Tonight, you are going to be reborn,” Al Sah-him’s rough whisper coated her senses. “Felicity Smoak will be as dead as Oliver Queen. Only Anisa al Ghul will remain. She will be the one standing by the side of the next Ra’s al Ghul through the centuries of his rule, she will give birth to warriors and in time become the next Priestess of Life, “ the man spoke, his voice dropping even lower then it usually was.

With her eyes closed and the word echoing in her head, Felicity found herself in the light stages of a trance. She didn’t notice it as he stepped away from her, didn’t notice how much time has passed.

“Let the fire cleanse you,” Al Sah-him said from behind her before he pressed the poker into her flesh. 

A scream left her lips. His words swam in her mind as her skin burnt and the woman found herself holding onto his words more then the rope in her hands. 

She couldn’t deny it any longer, she had entered into a new life, a life that was nothing like the one she hoped for with Oliver Queen. And she had given her complete agreement to it: first when Ra’s al Ghul outlined her role to her after she came to him, second when she said her wedding vows, and third when she refused to leave Al Sah-him’ side like he demanded earlier that night. 

And the man that was now her husband was leading her down the only path available to them. Al Sah-him was marking her with a sigil that would forever bind her to the League. 

The blonde did not see the way the man’s hand trembled after he withdrew the poker from her skin, she did not see the tightens of his jaw as he stared at the outline of an arrowhead burnt into her skin. She had no capacity to think at that moment, apart from repeating the words that he had spoken which were now being tattooed into her mind. _Felicity Smoak is dead. There is only Anisa al Ghul left._ Only later when she would be taken through her studies of the League customs and traditions by the current Priestess of Light would the woman learn that this last part of her initiation was there just as much for her husband as it was for her.

It was meant to make the Heir to the Demon let go of all emotional connections his former self might have had to the woman he married, and leave behind it only the duty that he had to her. 

And it was his duty that drove him towards her then. He moved fast as he circled her, coming to a stop in front of her and undoing the rope that was straining against her wrists. It had already managed to create indents on her skin and was the only thing holding her up after the poker was no longer in contact with bare skin. 

Al Sah-him’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist as she slumped forward against his chest, barely able to hold any of her weight on her own legs. He was surprised to find her arms locking tightly around his neck as small sobs shook her shoulders, a few stray tears escaping from her eyes. He raised his spare hand to wipe them from her cheeks.

“You did well,” he praised her, his voice quiet and calm and her head lifted in surprise at his words, pain still in her gaze. “My Anisa.” Was that a note of reverence she heard in his tone? The man’s hand moved from her face to gently stroke her hair as she composed herself after the shock of the branding. It took a couple minutes before her breaths evened out, and it was then that the blonde looked up to meet her husband’s gaze again. 

“This is the first and the last time I will ever hurt you,” he spoke lowly, his words carrying the weight that left no room for doubt. “You will be the beacon of hope in The League of Assassins and your station will be unparalleled,” the man stated as his hand cupped her face. 

Anisa bit her lip, hesitating for a moment. 

“Say it,” her husband urged. 

“Al Sah-him,” she said softly. 

The corner of his lips rose into a small smile. 

The blonde tilted her chin up and he took the invitation, lowering his head to kiss her lips. His lips were warm and soft, and it was hard in the first moment to differentiate between the way Oliver Queen kissed her and the way Al Sah-him was doing so now. But the name of the man she loved before begun to fade as the mantra made itself known in her head again. _Felicity Smoak is as dead as Oliver Queen._

Anisa didn’t hold back the moan that went straight into his mouth as his tongue stroked hers. Before she knew it, Al Sah-him was lifting her up into his arms and carrying her to their bed. She didn’t want to detach herself from his lips, and the man gave a small chuckle as he lay her down, his arm resting below her shoulders so that she wouldn’t put any pressure onto her burn skin. 

“Al Sah-him,” she whispered again, hands lifting up to his face and pulling him closer to her so that she could kiss his lips once again. The kiss turned more primal, the man sucking her bottom lip into his mouth as his hand opened up her legs wider, finding her wet centre. 

A hiss came from Anisa and she bucked her hips up as he brushed his fingertips along the tops of her lower lips. From the gleam in her husband’s eyes, she could see that he considered torturing her for a little longer with the barest of touches, but he had made her suffer enough for one night already. Her thighs pressed into his own like a vice and her hands locked around his neck, nails digging into his skin with enough force to have made it painful for someone who was not a warrior. 

Al Sah-him lowered himself further, diminishing the space between them as he drank in the way his wife was whispering his name. His mouth traveled from her lips to her jaw and down her neck, nipping at the skin lightly as he slid a single finger into her entrance. 

“Please!” she begged him as he thrust the digit in and out of her with ease, feeling her wetness. 

He planted another small kiss on her lips before granting Anisa her wishes. He had to clench his jaw to hold back his own groan as his cock slid into her heat, though the woman did nothing to hold back her own cry of pleasure. He was glad for that. 

Her continued muttering of his name as the man made prolonged deliberate thrusts increased the pleasure that ran through his body. His free hand slid under her ass, enveloping it from one side and lifting her hips to give him a deeper angle. 

Anisa screamed as she came. Now that was the way he intended to make her scream many times over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The description of the Priestess is a totally legit theory that I am really hoping the show looking at in the next episode, since Oliver is going to be marrying then and it is something that would come up.
> 
> Would love to hear what you think of this story. 
> 
> Say hi to me on Tumblr
> 
> [theonlyoneofherkind](http://theonlyoneofherkind.tumblr.com)


	2. Nine Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine years into Al Sah-him’s reign as Ra’s al Ghul, the Lazarus Pit has to be used to bring him back to life for the first time. But when he breaks from the surface, he is not the same man who was submerged, and it is up to his wife to show him the way to his former self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is twice the length of the previous one. Enjoy :3

The wing of Nanda Parbat that Anisa did most of her work in had a level of serenity in it that couldn’t be found anywhere else on the premises. Swords were only allowed to be drawn under extreme circumstances. Assassins new and old, retreated to the wing to better master their minds or find some peace within their souls. That was how most days went. Today was not going to be one of those days. 

Anisa was in one of the smaller chambers right next to the Temple that particular afternoon, the four newest members of the League sitting on their heels before her, listening as the Priestess of Life gave a detailed lecture on the vows they have all recently sworn to the League. 

The woman took measured steps in front of the room from one end to the other, the words leaving her mouth slowly as she let the meaning of them wash over the listeners. She was very particular about her lectures not being interrupted. As Anisa had learned through the nine years of living within Nanda Parbat, there was a certain rhythm to the place, to the people. Interrupting this rhythm without a very good reason was grounds for punishment. 

That was why her head whipped to the side, eyes narrowing as she was cut off mid sentence by the door being opened. The woman was about to lash out, the Arabic words that already left many Assassins reeling back over the past few years on the tip of her tongue. Until she noticed that the man in the doorway was Najib, her husband’s second in command. 

“The Demon is dying, my lady. He needs you.” 

And Anisa’s heart stopped beating at those quiet words. The moment of complete stillness only lasted for a second, but it felt like a lifetime before the woman was storming to the door.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice gaining a chill that was much more characteristic of her husband than herself.

“In the bedchamber.”

Assassins cleared the path as they saw her running down the long corridors with the ferocious expression set upon her face. The doors to the bedchamber were slammed open, taking the attention of the three soldiers assembled there. Anisa’s eyes immediately shot to the bed where her husband lay unconscious.

She ignored the greetings of the soldiers as she rushed to the injured man. His shirt had been cut away from his body, a deep wound gushing blood on the left side of his chest. 

The blonde’s lower lip was between her teeth to keep her own emotions under control as she felt for the pulse. A sigh of relief came from her as she felt the weak beating against her finger and Anisa lowered her head for a few seconds. She could still save him.

“All of you out!” she snapped at the Assassins and they were quick to obey as the woman turned her attention to Najib who stood calmly by the door, his hand resting on his sword. 

“Prepare the chamber and find the others to help me get him ready,” she ordered, her voice a lot harsher than it usually was.

The man bowed his head before exiting the room silently as the Priestess set about performing her duties. 

She let out a shaky breath when the door closed and she was left alone, eyes glued to the man that she loved. Anisa knew that this would happen eventually. No man was invincible, not even Ra’s al Ghul, but she dared to believe that hers was. Nine years was a good time, the last had lasted eight before the Lazarus Pit had to be used to bring him back to life for the first time. The period between each resurrection lengthened as the Demon’s Head grew older and more experienced. Sixty years between the last rebirth and the passing of the title to the heir was the record. Al Sah-him intended to break it. 

Taking in a few calming breathes, Anisa steadied her nerves and settled her mind on what needed to be done. First, she proceeded to the wardrobe, opening the heavy mahogany doors and searching in the back for the white tunic and pants that were placed there specifically for this ritual. Every time she caught a glimpse of them over the years, the blonde couldn’t help but shudder slightly. 

It was stupid really. Nothing was going to change. Her husband was going to be alive and back to full health in a matter of days. It was only the horror stories she had read in the histories of the League that drove her to such wild thoughts sometimes. The people that were resurrected in such a fashion had the possibility of changing greatly. It all depended on the strength of their character. And while most who went through the process were Ra’s al Ghuls themselves, there were still some terrifying stories of what happened after the ones that were crazed with the thought of power received the gift of a second life. What followed were the Dark Ages of the League of Assassins. They were very few and far between, yet still enough to be brought up as lessons to those who found themselves within the walls of Nanda Parbat. 

But her Al Sah-him wasn’t like that. He was a very strong man, he had managed to get himself so far. He was there for her and their children to lean on when they couldn’t go any further on their own feet. Anisa had always known him to be a benevolent man, especially before their lives started over in their new home. Here he had changed, turned into something darker and crueler, and they had several fights over the years about the nature of their relationship. But she could still see the kindness there. It was in the little things. The way he gazed at her when they were alone, the way his fingers gently stroked her skin, their only purpose to memorize every little slope and crevice for the thousandth time, the way he smiled at his children when he thought no one was looking. 

Al Sah-him was never selfish. He took care of his duties and demanded the same from others. That was the task that Anisa had before her: performing a duty she had been dreading from the very start. 

The Priestess was in the middle of getting her husband undressed when the others arrived. There were four of them in total, the most trusted of Ra’s al Ghul. Najib, Basir, Thaman and Karida were the Assassins of the League that worked most closely with Al Sah-him. Whenever he wasn’t available, it was up to them to function as the voice of the Demon. 

They fell in around her silently, washing and dressing their leader for the ceremony. Anisa didn’t put a lot of effort into hiding the light tremor of her hands from these people. She knew that she could trust them implicitly, just as she knew that they would support her no matter what happened, but their loyalty would always belong to Ra’s first. 

Fifty soldiers were gathered in the Lazarus Pit chamber. Anisa didn’t acknowledge them, her back turned to those who came to pay their respects and stand vigil on one of the most important days of Al Sah-him’s life. Another fact that had the woman’s heart twisting in pain was that this was a test: Al Sah-him had a chance, however small, of not being restored to his former health. If he were to perish on this day, his reign would be scrubbed from the annals of the League’s history, and his wife and children cast out from Nanda Parbat. 

It wasn’t herself that Anisa feared for, or her children. It was too early for the man she married to leave this life behind. What he received here was a kind of immortality, it was one of the few rewards that this place offered, and after taking so much from them, Anisa would be damn sure they received what was promised to them. 

The prayers felt soothing on her tongue. Anisa took comfort in the familiarity of the words, trusting them to do their job. Al Sah-him’s body was lowered into the pool by the same four that helped her dress him for the ceremony. The connection they had to the man was also a very important part of the ritual. 

The ropes were released and complete silence fell as everyone waited. Anisa held her breath, watching the bubbles rise to the top. One, two, three, four second passed. And then a roar echoed all around the chamber as Ra’s al Ghul sprang from the waters, his face twisted in anger. He landed in a crouch, and was seconds away from delivering an attack to those closest to him, but Basir and Karida were faster. The brunette injected the sedative into her leader’s neck and he slumped over, Karida and Basir catching him by his arms before he hit the floor. 

“Everyone is dismissed. Out, now!” Anisa commanded turning to address the watching Assassins. The anger that she directed at them became known immediately as the pain of not knowing Al Sah-him’s fate lifted from her shoulders. These Assassins were the ones who represented everything that could have gone wrong here. She didn’t need them watching the man she loved in his moments of weakness. 

The journey back to the bedchamber was hurried, but far calmer. Once they arrived Anisa actually mustered a smile as she thanked and dismissed the four Assassins that stayed by her side throughout the ceremony. 

They bowed their heads to her before leaving, Ra’s al Ghul now resting safely on his own bed. The woman lowered herself tentatively into a sitting position on the bed beside Al Sah-him, her fingers trembling as she reached for his hand after hearing the door close behind her. That sound was what broke the seal she held over her emotions. 

The first sob shook her entire body, and by the second she found herself lying on the bed beside her husband. It took her some minutes to understand that she was gripping his hand too tight, and to let go of it in horror. She thanked whatever gods were watching over them that Al Sah-him remained fast asleep beside her as she cried. Anisa wasn’t sure if she was ready to face his reaction to her tears. 

It was over though, everything was going to be okay. He was safe, and what she was experiencing now was just the aftershock of bottling up so many emotions for the time it took to use the Lazarus Pit. The only reason she was able to do that, was that if she was unable to perform her duties Al Sah-him would have died. And the pain of that would have been much greater than what she was going through now. 

Eventually, Anisa must have drifted off herself. She awoke a few hours later to the feeling of her cheek being stroked by a very familiar hand. A smile appeared on her lips and she nuzzled into the hand before her eyes opened. A content sound left her lips and she tilted her head up so she could see his face. Her own head had ended up on the same level as his chest and she had managed to wrap both of her arms around his when they slept. 

Al Sah-him returned his wife’s smile, fingers still stroking over her cheek. “You’ve been crying,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse from sleep. 

“Happy tears,” she whispered back, her smile softening. That was only half a lie. She didn’t want to bring up the pain that she had felt at the thought of almost losing him. She had locked it away within herself and didn’t want to touch it again. 

The man’s smile widened briefly in reply to her words before his face settled into a frown. “Where are we, Felicity?” 

Anisa blinked at him, her mind not registering the words he had spoken at first, before a piercing kind of pain hit her heart. It was different from the one she was assaulted with earlier that day, but it was just as strong. 

Moving slowly, she detached herself from his hand, loosening her own grip on his arm and came to stand beside the bed. The emotions must have been running wild on her face Al Sah-him’s frown deepened. 

“We are home,” she replied quietly, now her own voice hoarse as her mind tried to decide whether to settle on anger or hurt, hoping that she heard wrong, that it was a minute mistake made by her husband. 

But he was shaking his head at her, that determined look settled into his gaze. “No, this isn’t our home.”

“Yes, it is,” she interjected, finally determining that there has been enough hurt for the day and anger was the only place to go at this point. “You are Al Sah-him, the Demon’s Head. And this is our home, Nanda Parbat.” 

Her gaze blazed when he met it with his own. Al Sah-him’s confusion mounted with every word she said, before his own anger overtook him. “If I am the Demon’s Head then what are you doing here?” he snapped at her. 

The words hit Anisa like a whiplash and she had to make herself stand still. “I am your wife,” she hissed at him. 

“I wouldn’t marry you! Not like this!” he snapped back at her, shaking his head. Nothing she was saying was making any sense to him. His mind was clouded enough by the sedatives and a strange weakness already. 

The Priestess’s eyes slammed shut and her fists clenched by her sides. She didn’t need to go through all of this, not now, not again. It was enough the first time the night of their wedding. What she never admitted to anyone, not to her husband or herself, was that she was deathly afraid on that night that he would actually cast her aside, find a way to get her safely out of Nanda Parbat without anyone noticing. Because that was his nature, to protect the ones he loved. Him allowing her to stay there was an act of weakness for the man, a selfish act that had him desperately grasping onto the only source of happiness he could find in his new life. This man was not him though. Right now, he was the man who lived a past life, who had no understanding of Al Sah-him or how he lived his life. And it was Anisa’s job to remind him of it. 

“You didn’t,” she answered simply, her tone surprisingly calmer than it was before. “You didn’t know it was me until after we were wed.” 

The anger on his face morphed into incredulousness, and then shock and then anger once again. “WHY?” he roared at her, scooting up on the bed into a sitting position. “Why would you do something so stupid?” 

“Because I love you, you idiot!” she yelled back at him, voice rising to a booming sound as her eyebrows narrowed. 

“Felicity, you condemned yourself to a life beside a man who could never love you!” 

“That’s complete bullshit! You know nothing about Al Sah-him!” Anisa had never been angrier in her life. 

“I know he is a monster!” Al Sah-him snarled back. The muscles of his back were tensed, the rage in his eyes mixed with a kind of confusion that didn’t know where to settle. He didn’t know what to feel when the woman he loved was feeding him information that went against everything he believed. “He would never love you! He would only make you serve him!” 

“He didn’t make me do anything!” the woman shrieked, her tone rising even higher as she stepped closer to the man. Her expression was ferocious, and she was seconds away from striking him. The man who sat before her was not her husband. The words he spoke were lies. Her own husband would never anger her like that. “It was _my_ choice to come here. It was _my_ choice to stay here. It was _my_ choice to serve him. My husband cares for me greatly. He takes no pleasure in seeing me hurt. The only monster there is, is the one I see before me now. The ghost of Oliver Queen who thinks he knows better,” she said, disgust dripping from every syllable in the last sentence. 

Anisa didn’t stay to feel the silence pressing down on her. She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her and made her way to one of the training pits as Al Sah-him sat on their bed with a stunned expression on his face.

“You!” the Priestess called out to one of the guards she walked past in a corridor towards her destination. “Come with me!” she demanded as she strode ahead. The anger had not abated and she needed to do something about it. 

The Assassin followed her without a word as they found a spare training room. 

The woman didn’t waste much time picking one of the swords offered on the racks in the back of the room before she was turning back to her chosen sparring partner with the weapon raised. 

“Fight!”

And the song of a swordfight filled the room. 

Unknown to both combatants, a figure appeared in one of the shadows about ten minutes into the duel. Ra’s al Ghul watched intently as his wife moved the sword with precision, the weapon of death perfectly balanced in her grip. The woman he knew as Felicity Smoak was always strong, but this, the woman she was now, Anisa al Ghul, was greater than Felicity had been. She had become someone else, something else and Oliver Queen had no place to stand beside her. What she wanted, what she demanded was not him, it was Al Sah-him, Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon himself. And he had failed her on this night. 

It was more then an hour after the sparring match had begun that Anisa finally called a halt to it. All her muscles were burning pleasantly after such intensive exercise, her rage having lessened considerably. She nodded curtly to the Assassin before heading back to her own chambers. Her husband was fast asleep in their bed when she made her way to the en-suited bathroom, drawing herself a hot bath. The blonde took her time, washing all the sweat from her body and letting the heat relax her muscles. Once finished, she dressed herself in a nightgown before proceeding to the bed.

She stood on her side for a few moments, watching as the man’s chest rose and feel as he slept. She was still angry with him. The swordfight only clamed her, it did not rid her of the problem at hand. Al Sah-him had hurt her tonight, and she still hadn’t forgiven him for that. 

Anisa curled up on her side of the bed, putting as much distance between herself and her husband as was possible. She slept restlessly, tossing and turning from side to side and at one point she had somehow managed to tuck her body against Al Sah-him’s larger one. She growled at herself in frustration, rolling violently to the other side.

She turned her head away from his peaceful face and made herself get more rest.

The morning was tense and silent. The pair had a hard time meeting each other’s eyes, barely saying a word. Anisa made Al Sah-him drink the healing tea before leaving him to rest. She needed to get out of the room for a while and there were a few other duties that she had to attend to. She appeared from her chambers later than usual. The woman walked past the dining room where she usually greeted her children in the morning. They would already be at their lessons by this point. Instead, she proceeded to the communications center that was put into Nanda Parbat after countless meetings and begging sessions Anisa had with the elders. It had been a very long process, in which Al Sah-him had kept a neutral standpoint until the end, when the council that ranked directly under Ra’s al Ghul and the Priestess of Life finally consented to her wishes and installed the computers that Anisa wanted. 

The large monitors looked strange where they sat against the stone walls, but the three members of the League that sat before them in their uniforms looked even stranger typing away at the modern keyboards with the fingers that were more adept at handling sharp blades. The three greeted her quietly when she entered. 

The Priestess spent a couple of hours there, before returning to her chambers only to discover that her husband left his bed. Shaking her head in disapproval, the woman pursed her lips before heading out once again, intent on finding Al Sah-him who should have still been resting. 

It wasn’t hard to locate him. He was in one of the central chambers, dressed pristinely in his usual uniform, talking to Najib. Anisa lingered in the shadows by the doorway for a minute as she watched him. The two men spoke quietly, Najib reporting on what the other missed in the ten days that he was away from his home. Only trained eyes that knew the Demon well could see that there was a slight stiffness in the way he stood, that the lines of his face were not as set as they usually were, that the aura he was emitting now held a different note to it. The man standing the middle of the room was not Al Sah-him, he was still Oliver Queen, no matter how hard he tried to pretend. Something had to be done about it. 

The woman retreated back into the shadows before anyone could notice her.

 

* * *

 

Later that evening Anisa made her way to the dining room for the evening meal. She could hear a small commotion at the back of the room even before she entered. Frowning slightly, she stepped inside, her eyes immediately landing on her children who were huddled together having a heated discussion in whispers. 

“Am I interrupting something?” the woman asked with a raised eyebrow, her tone pointed.

“Mother!”

“We heard about Father. Is he dead?” 

“Najib said that he was. And that he was born again.” 

“How can anyone be born again?” 

“Yeah, that only happens in stories. We are not babies to believe in stories,” her son puffed with all the maturity a seven year old could muster. Ibn might have succeeded in sounding older then he was, with the League of Assassins uniform perfectly enveloping his young body and the sword hanging from his belt. But the fact of the matter was, he was still a child, no matter what he wore on his person or the skills that he already had under his belt. He should have known better than to voice such thoughts, especially to his five year old sister.

“What on earth made you think that that was ever an appropriate question to ask?” Anisa said, her voice turning hard, rising ever so slightly. 

The pair in front of her flinched back slightly, but the curious look did not leave their scattering gazes completely. Had the pair been anywhere else, they would have looked angelic with their fair hair and blue eyes they inherited from their father. But they were born and bred in Nanda Parbat to become some of the world’s best warriors, trained by the Demon himself. Almost from birth they were dressed in dark colours to remind them that they could not lead a life of innocence, that they had a cruel path to walk. But they were still children, still naïve and impressionable, in need of the guiding hands of their parents. 

“You should be ashamed of yourselves!” Anisa rebuked. 

“Father, you are alive!” Imani’s eyes focused on something behind the woman. 

Her older brother quickly followed her lead. “We thought you died,” the boy said, his voice a little bit more controlled then it was before. 

“And I think you are in a desperate need of the rod. Both of you. I will not have my own children doubt me. Sit, it will be the last time you will be able to do so comfortably for a while.” 

Those words were what made the pair sufficiently subdued and sitting down as they were instructed, their heads lowered in shame. 

A muscle twitched at the corner of his jaw, the only sign that Al Sah-him lacked his usual calmness. Emotions warred behind his cold gaze as he watched his son and daughter. It had been easier to chastise them than he thought. Perhaps because the children never belonged to Oliver Queen, they were always Al Sah-him’s. And that man knew what he was doing with them, even if he was cruel in his ways. He had their admiration and respect, and their fear. What bothered him in that moment, however, was that Al Sah-him didn’t want anything else from them. 

Anisa remained still after turning to face her husband. His face was set in a hard mask, his hands locked behind his back as he gazed at his children for a few moments before stepping further into the room. 

“Anisa,” his attention turned to her, voice softening only slightly as he inclined his head towards the table, waiting for her to sit down before he did so himself. 

The woman didn’t say a word as she took her place at the table, her expression turning pensive.

 

* * *

 

Three hours later Ra’s found his wife on the eastern balcony. While his mind was clouded, he knew where to search for her when he found their bedroom empty. This was the place she came when she was upset with him. 

He walked forward quietly, watching as her posture shifted slightly as she became aware of his presence. She did not turn to face him however. 

“You are angry, my Anisa,” he said calmly, the usual roughness of his voice dulled by a level of softness that he only used when speaking to his wife. 

“Do not call me that!” she snarled at him, whipping around to meet his eyes, the anger shining in her pupils in full force for the first time since she stormed out on him the previous night. “You might put on a mask for everyone else, including your own children, but I know you better. You can’t fool me!”

A beast roared inside of him to dominate the goading woman, the same beast that demanded punishment for the children who doubted him. He wanted to eradicate that same doubt from her too, the doubt that he was not the Demon, that he was weaker then before. He wanted to see her naked and begging for pleasure underneath him, he wanted to hear her scream his name. But that wasn’t him, he couldn’t be this man with her. 

He closed his eyes for a few moments as he tried to calm his anger. “Come, we both need rest. It’s been a long day,” he said softly offering her his hand. 

“No!” she hissed stepping closer to him, her eyes shining with defiance. His jaw clenched at her response. “No, you are not the man I married and I will not go anywhere with you!”

Al Sah-him’s anger rose higher as the Demon demanded for the posed challenge to him to be subdued. His lips curled into a vicious snarl, the man no longer able to mask all of his fury. “I am your husband! And you will listen to me!” he roared. 

There was a strange glint in the woman’s gaze for a second, but it was gone before he could recognize what it was, covered up by the same defiance that remained unchanged from before. “No,” she said quietly this time, a small smile sliding onto her lips. “I will only listen to Al Sah-him. And you are not him.” And with those words she turned away from him, leaving the man standing dumfounded on the balcony for a few seconds before he was striding towards her. 

In the next instant Anisa found herself pressed into the man’s hard chest, his arm wrapped tightly around her hips. He lowered his head to her neck so that his lips could nip harshly at the sensitive skin. “Very well,” he growled quietly into her ear. “If it’s Al Sah-him you want, it’s Al Sah-him you shall get.” Something had snapped in him the moment she turned her back. The last barrier broke, releasing the part of him that listened with satisfaction to her small whimpers as his lips reddened her flesh. 

Ra’s could have continued for hours, the thought of others seeing his wife in such a state was the only thing that drove him to make his way to his own chambers. He kept his tight grip on her as they walked, half carrying her to their destination. 

The doors were slammed shut with his foot and his hands wasted no time tearing her robes open. The sound of ripping fabric penetrated the chamber and Anisa had to grab a tight hold of her husband’s arm to keep her balance. She was taken off-guard by his actions, but she welcomed every one of them. 

His head lowered as soon he spied a naked breast peaking from underneath the black fabric. Al Sah-him’s lips locked around the pink bud of nerves, making the woman moan above him as his hand searched for its companion. His tongue flicked over the nipple, the pace becoming more erratic as his fingers rolled and pulled on the other one. He knew her body too well, he knew how much to give to make her feel the pleasure that she so desired, he knew how to torture her with said pleasure, giving her just enough to make her beg for more. 

And that was what he would do today. Ra’s ignored the stiffness of his cock as he picked up his wife, carrying her over the bed and laying her down. He didn’t have patience to have her undress him on that day and by the way she looked at him he could see that she wouldn’t be able to go through the process before either one of them made sure that he was sliding inside of her. 

Al Sah-him undressed himself quickly, his darkened gaze never leaving the blonde who lay with her naked chest heaving. She didn’t move as he lowered himself onto the mattress above her. The man stilled for a few moments, their mouths inches apart as they stared into each other’s eyes. Anisa’s no longer held the defiance in it that it did a few minutes earlier, instead a new kind of challenge had entered her gaze, the kind that Al Sah-him loved to see there. And that only spurred him on further. 

The Demon’s lips crashed down on hers, his tongue demanding entrance into her mouth. He swallowed her gasps, rocking his hips on hers as they kissed. His every movement was controlled and the woman already had a hard time keeping up with his kisses. Her lips were losing the battle for control as her thighs curled up around his own, restrained by the long skirts of her robe. 

Al Sah-him finally pulled away from her as the need for air made itself known. He didn’t waste any time, making quick work of pulling the rest of Anisa’s clothing from her body. 

His gaze was what pinned her to the bed, making her lie completely still. Those were the eyes of the Demon, the ones he tried to hide for the last twenty-four hours, the eyes that forced thousands to kneel before the man. 

“You shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,” he whispered roughly as his thumb found her darkened nipple. He circled it with his finger, watching its progress. The woman’s hips shifted beneath her as pleasure built up in her body from his simple ministration. Al Sah-him turned to face his wife with a feral look in his eyes. She knew that look, she had seen it before. The look alone made waves of heat cascade over her body as she bit her lip. Wetness pooled between her thighs as if there wasn’t enough of it there already. 

“You are mine, Anisa,” he growled, pinching her nipple between two of his fingers, making her gasp. “Yet, you seemed to have forgotten what it entails to belong to me.” Another sharp pull and her breast was suddenly free, the tips of his fingers drifting up to her collarbone, tracing its outline. He was nestled between her thighs again, one of his own hovering inches away from her centre. 

“You are the Demon’s wife,” he had to raise his voice for it to be heard above her cry as he pressed his leg directly over her centre. The pressure on her clit was making Anisa roll her head back, gasping for breath. She rocked her hips against his leg, already desperate for more friction. Her husband could be a very cruel man. He knew exactly how to bring her to her knees, weak with her want for pleasure with just a few simple touches and the right words. The cruelty didn’t come in that, however, it came after, when he stroked and played with her body for hours, seeking her submission and denying her pleasure until she gave in to him. 

“I will have your obedience even if I have to take it by force,” he growled lowly into her ear before moving back, releasing the sweet pressure he had on her. The man stood up from the bed giving Anisa a few moments to try to steady her breathing. Her body felt chilly without his pressed against it. 

Al Sah-him was out of her eyesight for barely ten seconds before her was standing by the bed again, reaching for her wrists. He pulled her arms silently above her head and tied them to the headboard with a piece of black silk. His face was set with the hard lines of ruthlessness, but his touch was warm when his hands glided down her arms and to her shoulders, making sure that they weren’t strained by the new position. 

She met his gaze then. The minute pause in their activities allowed the pair a moment of silent communication. His gaze was set with determination while her eyes shined with trust and the challenge that he saw in there before. That was all he needed to proceed. 

He lowered himself onto the mattress, kneeling between her legs once again. He lowered himself further until his face was aligned with her womanhood. His hands locked around her thighs, keeping them in place while he took a moment to breathe her in. His senses were assaulted by the sweet musky scent of her sex that knew so well. 

Al Sah-him begun his teasing with small kisses on the very tops of her legs, his short stubble scratching the skin lightly, giving a contrast to his soft lips. Anisa already had to put effort into keeping silent, her bottom lip locked between her teeth. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had her so undone already. 

His lips traveled from one thigh, to the smoothness of her skin a few inches above her clit and then back down to her other leg. He could already feel sweat starting to bead under his touch, but didn’t pause to revel in that fact. On his next round of the same small kisses, the man came closer to her centre, not touching her glistening lips. A strained noise came from above him and the warrior had to smirk, pausing briefly, before continuing on the same journey. His tongue flicked out this time as he came to the very edge of her flower and he had to tighten his grip on her thighs as the woman tried to buck her hips. 

Another frustrated sigh came from above when she was unable to move an inch to get his mouth where she wanted it. He continued, undeterred by her reactions, his tongue licking a path around her heat, causing more whimpers to escape the woman’s mouth without her permission before he finally gave her what she wanted. 

Anisa moaned loudly, her head tilting back as his large tongue traveled from her opening right to her clit. She mewled in pleasure as her husband licked her at the centre of her core, parting the pink lips with his tongue, before taking one inside his mouth, sucking on it lightly. 

“Please, please,” the blonde begged. Her hips wouldn’t obey her trying to move even with the iron grip of his hands holding them in place. She would have dark bruises on her thighs if she kept going that way, but the woman was past caring. 

A cry of pleasure pierced the air as his tongue thrust inside her opening. Al Sah-him lapped up her juices as he set a fast pace while his wife cried out in ecstasy. Her inner muscles worked around him and he growled, the vibrations carrying her further on her journey to release. 

“Al Sah-him!” she cried, arms straining against their binds as she readied herself for her release. But her husband moved away right before she could topple over the edge, pulling his face back from her pulsing core as the woman begged for the orgasm that she was denied. 

He watched her with a calm gaze from between her legs as the blonde’s shoulders shook with dry sobs. He licked her juices of his own lips as he waited for her to calm. When she did she looked down at him with a mix of anger and submission. He couldn’t have that. 

Al Sah-him rose from the bed, his wife’s eyes following him as he untied her hands from the head of the bed before retying them so they were locked together. Without a word he flipped her over so that she lay on her stomach, the woman huffing lightly as she landed in the new position, but otherwise didn’t speak. The man knelt on the bed again between her legs, taking a firm grip of her hips and lifting them up until she was kneeling herself, her upper body stretched out on the bed before her. His hands caressed the soft globes of her ass and he felt her relax under his touch, the pleasure that was humming through her veins not completely gone, but calmed considerably. It wouldn’t stay that way for long. 

His fingers retook the light strokes that his mouth had made already and when Anisa realized what he was doing she tried to move her hips away from his touches.

“Don’t!” she snapped angrily over her shoulder. Her outburst was followed by a yelp as he gave her ass a sharp slap with the same hand he stroked her with. 

“Stay still,” he commanded, his voice harsh as his left hand took a tight hold of her hip. He didn’t wait before plunging two fingers inside her slit, eliciting a moan from Anisa. She forgot her protest then, her head falling back to its original place. Al Sah-him set a slower pace with his digits then he did with his tongue. He curled them once they were fully sheathed, making the woman scream in pleasure every time he did so. 

Her arousal was dripping all the way down to her knees by that stage of the night, his fingers sliding easily in an out. It wasn’t going to be long now. Her whole body was trembling and by that time her inner walls were starting to lock around his fingers. The woman was begging for release, her pleas mixed in with his name. It was music to the Demon’s ears and he felt the beast inside of him finally begin to feel some satisfaction. 

Al Sah-him’s vision suddenly cleared. It was no longer the darkness inside of him that was controlling his actions, pleasuring and punishing the helpless woman before him, savagely fighting for dominance over the ghost of the man he was before. No, he was Ra’s al Ghul once again, the Demon’s Head, crusher of souls and destroyer of the last hope. And his wife had dared to speak against him on that day.

The man growled with renewed vigour as he pulled his hand free from Anisa’s sex. She was crying by the time he rolled her over onto her back once again, denied release a second time on that night. Al Sah-him remained undeterred by her tears, reaching to untie her hands. When they were free he caught her chin in a firm grip tilting her head towards him. “Grab onto the headboard and don’t let go,” he commanded roughly. 

It was hard for Anisa to concentrate on his words. Pleasure was receding from her body and the man that now loomed above her was giving off an aura that demanded attention, but made it all the more difficult to focus on what he was saying. 

Apparently, this man did not have a lot of patience. When his wife remained unmoving Ra’s lowered his head to her neck, attaching his mouth to her skin harshly, sucking it into his mouth until she was keening and writhing beneath him. “Grab onto the headboard and don’t let go,” he growled into her ear, his voice more quiet as he repeated himself. 

This time she obeyed. Her arms trembled as she raised them above her head, locking her hands tightly around the metal rod at the bottom of the headboard. 

Al Sah-him released her chin, taking a hold of both of her hips this time before he thrust his cock inside of her in one harsh move without any warning. The Priestess screamed, her folds already oversensitive from his ministrations. She would have welcomed his entrance with the uttermost eagerness had he not stilled completely within her. His member was hot and pulsing against her muscles, just a few tiny strokes would be all it took for her to reach her orgasm. 

“Look at me,” he demanded, his hand catching her chin again, his eyes burning into hers. “Had anyone else showed me the same disrespect you did today they would be dead already,” he said harshly, his grip tightening. “You are my wife. You will mind your tongue or I will keep you in this bed, too sore to walk, your body swelling with one child and then another so you do not forget who you belong to,” he thundered at her, his face hovering just above hers. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” her voice sounded like a little squeak compared to his, yet she was determined to use it despite the intensity of emotions coursing though her body right now. “Yes, Al Sah-him.” The need for any sort of friction to her sex had been half forgotten with a satisfaction of a different kind. 

“Good,” the man said, seeming to have reached a satisfaction of his own. 

He planted his forearms right beside her shoulders, his bulging muscles within her viewpoint before giving her the first hard thrust. It was all it took to have her come undone. 

Anisa’s cry echoed around the chamber for a long time as she reached the orgasm that was denied to her for so long. But her husband did not pause. His hips continued with the brutal pace he had set, his eyes burning into hers. His hands had found her breasts, enveloping them in his palms and massaging the nipples between his fingers. 

Soon, the woman was on the brink of her second orgasm. Al Sah-him leaned in close to her ear when he sensed her getting close to toppling over the edge the second time. “Tonight, I would put a child inside of you if I could, to best remind you where you stand,” he growled into her ear right before his fingers found her clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves and setting of the explosion, his cock never slowing. 

The Demon had to clench his jaw to keep from coming himself as his wife cried out underneath him, her hands locking tighter around the metal rod, arms tensing. He prided himself on the highest level of self-control and in those moments he had to use all of it. 

Al Sah-him’s thrusts became sharper as his thumb settled over Anisa’s clit, rubbing tight fast circles on top of it as he sought to make her come once more before he did. The woman’s legs were locked like iron rods around his hips, her moans growing louder and louder with each second until she was screaming his name, every muscle tensed as she held onto to his cock inside of her with a tight grip. And the man roared, his movements becoming erratic as they both came. He spilled his seed inside of her and rode out the waves of orgasm as Anisa’s body turned pliant underneath him. Her hands rose from the headboard to circle his neck and she pulled him down to kiss his lips. He kissed her back, their lips sloppy atop each others, hips still moving in the slowing dance, neither willing to let go of the last waves of pleasure. 

They rolled to their sides as he slipped out of her, his member soft and glistening with both of their fluids. Anisa nuzzled into her husband’s shoulder, her eyes closing for a few moments until his hand tilted her chin up. 

“What do you think you are doing?” he asked lowly, his eyebrow raised, eyes shining half in amusement half in challenge. “We are just getting started.”

The blonde’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing as she met his gaze, her chin tilting up more and a huff leaving her lips. Oh, she was more then willing to accept that challenge.

 

* * *

 

Ra’s al Ghul sat in front of his bed as the sun rose, watching his wife. The woman was fast asleep and would be for some hours still, giving the man the time he needed to contemplate his thoughts. He had a lot to think about after last night. So he thought and he waited. Three, four, five hours after the sun made its presence known. Only then did Anisa begin to stir. Her blonde curls were splayed across the pillow in a messy pile that was made even more beautiful by the sunlight that fell upon it. 

A small groan came from her as she shifted her naked body, evidence of last night’s activities already making their presence known. The man couldn’t help but smirk at that. That was how she first saw him when she opened her bleary eyes. Anisa scooted herself up on the bed slightly so she didn’t have to put in the effort of holding her head up to glare at her husband. Her lips were pursed in the way they were when she was only pretending to be mad at him. 

“Morning,” she managed to croak out. 

“Good morning,” he returned, the smirk morphing into a light smile. Those words, the smile and that clear gaze were the only things Anisa needed to know that the man sitting in front of her was the true Al Sah-him. She smiled brightly at that. 

“You are a cunning little minx,” the Demon stated in the same light voice, tone only slightly scolding as pride shined clearly in his eyes. 

“Yeah, well, I kind of have to be, what with being married to the big bad Demon.” Her chin rose in what could have been arrogance, had it not been for the light tones and the warmth perpetrating the air. 

“Minx!” he admonished as he shook his head, his smirk spreading ever wider. The man rose from the couch he sat on, his expression turning more serious as he took a few steps towards his wife. “Thank you, my Anisa,” he said softly, the words filled with reverence. 

Last night, the woman had played him right into her hands. Everything that happened, the fighting, the power play, his threats, her submission, it was all there to put _him_ in his place. After the resurrection from the Lazarus Pit a person’s mind could stay clouded for days at a minimum. And he needed the push to get back to his real self. As his wife, it was her duty to give him that push. 

Anisa smiled at his words, warmth feeling her being, her eyes lowering in a sudden bout of shyness. “It hurt more then I thought it would,” she answered him quietly, her voice pained. 

“Hey,” Al Sah-him took the last few steps separating them and sat down beside her, his hand rising to cup her face gently, lifting it so that he could see her eyes again. His gaze was somber as he stroked her cheek. “I do not even know how to begin to apologize for the things I said to you.”

“You don’t have to. It wasn’t-“

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I was the one who insulted you, insulted your strength, no matter what state of mind I was in during that time. I made you relive old pains, and for that I will always be sorry.” The mood had turned gloomy as he spoke. “I am sorry, my Anisa,” he said, his voice strained, pain flashing through his eyes. “There is no stronger or braver woman out there.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as Anisa looked at her husband, hiding nothing from him. “I love you,” she said as he wiped the tears from her cheek, words quiet but penetrative. 

“I know,” he answered softly. His gaze lifted from her tear stained cheeks back to her eyes. “I love you too, my Anisa.” 

The woman gasped, her frame shaking as she looked at her husband with mesmerized eyes. She had waited for those words for nine years, almost becoming convinced that Al Sah-him was right when he said that the Demon’s Head could never love anyone. 

In the hours that he waited, Al Sah-him had defined for himself the depths of his feelings for the woman before him. He was certain of two things. One, he cared for her deeply. And two, she would always be irreplaceable, in his personal life as well as his reign as the Demon’s Head. He wasn’t certain what other people’s requirements were to call it love, he didn’t care. What he saw in his wife and her place in his life was enough for him to call it something as extraordinary as love. 

“No matter what happens,” Al Sah-him continued, his gaze having never been warmer. “I will always be there for you. And if for whatever reason I can’t, know there will be others there to offer you their protection and assistance should you ever require it,” he vowed, his tone transforming into one very akin to that he used to give his promises as Ra’s al Ghul. 

“Al Sah-him,” was the only thing the woman could muster to say softly, her own hand rising to stroke his cheek. The man’s eyes closed as he enjoyed her soft touch, tilting his head into it. Her hand found it’s way to the back of his neck and she pulled him forward. The kiss was one of the most delicate they exchanged, so different from the ones of last night. Anisa’s tongue softly stroked the seam of his lips and her free hand rose to the buttons of his shirt. Her husband pulled back before she could go any further, however. 

“I think you had enough of that last night to last you for quite a while,” he chucked, taking her hand into a warm grip, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

The blonde pouted at him, sitting back on the bed. He was right though, she would be too sore to move anywhere for some hours. 

“Rest today, Anisa,” Al Sah-him said, before placing a kiss on the back of her hand and releasing it to lie at her side. 

“But I have to take the new recruits-“

“Demon’s orders,” he told her sternly. 

Anisa huffed, sticking her tongue out at her husband. 

There was a glint in his eyes and he was swooping down, his mouth on top of hers, not pulling back until the blonde was moaning. 

Al Sah-him broke the kiss, smirking briefly at her flushed face. “Rest,” he told her softly before placing a more chaste kiss on her forehead. 

“Alright,” his wife finally conceded. 

He made to rise from the bed but her hand shot up to his arm as she remembered something. “Wait,” Anisa said and the man settle back with a small frown. “What you said last night, the part about having another child. Is that true? Do you want to have another child?” she asked curiously. 

“A man can say a lot of things in the middle of sex, but he doesn’t hold the power to cancel out the effects of your contraceptive brews,” Al Sah-him chuckled. “Yes, I would like to have another child, Anisa,” he answered, his tone more serious now. “But only when you are ready.” 

And the woman smiled widely. “I shall look into altering those brews,” she said softly. Anisa had a feeling that one of the many things Al Sah-him would be remembered for would be being the most fertile Ra’s al Ghul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In conclusion, these two bred like rabbits. They just took their time doing so. 
> 
> Both of the tones from the last two scenes are very much part of their relationship. They have managed to create a balance between the two over the years. 
> 
> This ended up longer then I expected. What did you guys think?
> 
> What would you like to see for future chapters? Would you like them to stay this intense and dark or would you be happy with less dramatic snippets from their lives?
> 
> More then happy to hear any prompts or ideas you guys want explored in future chapters :3
> 
> Say hi to me on tumblr 
> 
> [theonlyoneofherkind](http://www.theonlyoneofherkind.tumblr.com)


	3. Eighteen Years: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ibn al Ghul, firstborn child of Al Sah-him, returns home after successfully leading his first mission. A bloodbath like no one dared to imagine follows his arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT! I should have thanked you before, but I am kind of new at this and have been overwhelmed by the fact that there are so many of you actually reading this story. This started off as me just writing for myself and turned into something so much bigger than I ever imagined it being. Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos, they truly make my day. 
> 
> This is the first part of the two part finale. I wrote out the entire thing, which ended up being 14 thousand words, hence the long break and the division into two chapters. I will post the second one up a week from today. The two chapters will mark the ending of the story BUT, I am not done with this AU. So read, and I will give a little more detail at the bottom.

Assassins cleared the path as Ibn al Ghul entered the central part of Nanda Parbat with a prisoner just behind him. He strode down the corridors with two soldiers keeping guard of the man that he had just captured. The young man didn’t pause before entering the main audience chamber, his face expressionless, his gaze determined as he proceeded to face the judgment of the Demon. 

More then a dozen people stood in the chamber, all awaiting the patience of Ra’s al Ghul, but it was only moments after Ibn secured himself a place in the middle of the crowd that the Demon’s gaze lifted from the Assassin kneeling before him, the newcomers having not escaped his notice.

“My son,” he said, his voice not rising in the slightest, all other chatter ceasing as the man commanded the complete attention of everyone in the room, waiting for the young soldier to come forward. 

Ibn approached with confidence as all others stepped away, leaving a clear path for him. He bent one knee when he came within three feet of his sire and bowed his head. 

“Father,” he greeted. 

A moment of silence followed and Ibn felt something suspiciously close to nervousness begin to creep along his spine. 

“Rise,” came the command, and all worry fell away from the boy as he heard the small but distinct note of pride in the man’s voice. 

With grace honed through years of combat lessons he lifted himself back to his full height, his head rising, gaze finally meeting Al Sah-him’s. “The traitor has been captured.” He had been given five days to complete his assignment, he was back home in two.

Ibn looked very much a soldier in that moment. His hand was settled on the sword that was gifted to him ten years ago, his body clad in the standard League of Assassins armour with the hood and mask lowered. The hair on his head had been shaved down, only the lightest shadow remaining in its place. There was a coldness in his eyes that signaled the existence of ruthlessness that most parents would not be pleased to see in their sixteen-year-old child. Al Sah-him was not most parents. 

“Impressive, my heir,” the Demon stated with his usual calmness. His hands were locked behind his back as he circled his son to stand before the prisoner that he delivered. “The same could not be said for you, Jabir,” he continued softly, his eyes scanning the man who had been pushed to his knees by the two holding him. 

Ibn turned as his father walked behind him and couldn’t stop the shiver from running down his spine at the Demon’s tone, even though it was not directed at him. The boy had heard Al Sah-him use that tone many times over the years, and on a few unfortunate occasions had been on the receiving end of it. What followed was something that would haunt the young man’s nightmares to the end of his life. 

“You broke your vows and spit on everything that I have given you, committing the greatest offence there is within these walls,” Al Sah-him continued lowly. “Imani,” he raised his head and watched as his daughter stepped forward from the crowd. 

“Father,” the girl bowed her head. 

“You will administer Jabir’s punishment.” 

“Gladly, Father.” 

The Demon turned, returning to his previous position as his daughter came to stand beside her brother. Though the two were similar in their appearances, they were quite different in their natures. Several braids weaved their way through Imani’s dark blonde hair, and a tiny emerald shined against the skin of her nose. Unlike Ibn, the girl had taken use of the liberty given to the children of the Demon to alter the traditional League attire, selecting deep green silk for the inner lining of her robe. It was a small nod to her father’s former identity, something that many thought he wouldn’t allow, but the man surprised all when he commented on Imani’s change in clothing with a note of fondness. 

That was only where the differences between the two siblings begun. Ibn was more ruthless then kind, disciplined by the years of training, while his sister had a chaotic nature that refused to be tamed even by the harshest regiments. Not that there was a need to tame it. The girl was completely loyal to her father and the League, even if rebellious by nature. She had established herself as an anomaly within Nanda Parbat and prided herself for that, all the while sharing a mutual fondness with her father. 

All of that could have been all well and good had Imani not clashed so severely with Ibn. Their disputes have reached violent levels on more then one occasion over the years. Swords were drawn and blood was spilled, to the great anger of the Demon. The children hardly ever saw him angry. Al Sah-him was a harsh disciplinarian, but he was always level headed, the lengths he went to in order to guide his children were always justified by their roles within the League of Assassins. They were to become some of the best assassins the League had ever produced. And the results were already starting to show. 

“Go, my children. Imani, take Jabir down to the dungeons. Ibn, you have an hour and then you will return to your duties. I shall see you both in the evening,” Al Sah-him stated evenly. 

The pair bowed before turning to exit the room, each going their separate ways without saying another word.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, down in the dungeons fourteen-year-old Imani was laying out her knives. Jabir had been shackled to the ceiling by the same guards who kept watch on him from the moment he entered Nanda Parbat. The guards had been dismissed and the girl was left alone in the room with the prisoner as she prepared the instruments for torture. 

She had been instructed in the art of torture from the time she was seven and had administered it independently on several occasions before this one. The act fed directly on her chaotic nature and she prided herself on being better skilled at it then Ibn. Her older brother was too blunt, lacking patience for that type of work. While he was an intelligent young man, his nature was more direct. He was an excellent fighter and strategist and preferred a more direct approach then her. He liked to focus on the end task, while Imani chose to enjoy the process much more than he did. 

Jabir’s eyes were trained on her, a certain calmness in them. He knew his fate and knew that there would no escaping it. He was a trained Assassin of the League and had faltered under the strain placed on his will. The life of complete obedience was hard. It weighted down on everyone and some couldn’t help but break under the pressure. 

Imani never knew another kind of life. For her, moments like these allowed her to shift the scales of power in her direction and at the same time giving her something the very much enjoyed: complete control. 

Selecting one of the smaller blades to start off with, the girl turned to face her prisoner.

 

* * *

 

“Whoever can guess the right amount of weapons I am carrying will get to sit next to me,” Imani said hours later as she spun before three of her younger siblings in the dining room. 

“Five!”

“Eight!” 

“No touching! That’s breaking the rules,” the girl stated sternly as she stepped away from the reaching hands. 

Eight-year-old Rida, seven-year-old Zakia and six-year-old Majid all circled their sister, this time keeping their hands to themselves. 

“Eight,” Zakia repeated her previous guess, giving a firm nod of her dark head as she came to a stop. 

‘Seven,” the little boy delivered his second attempt, still moving around Imani, his eyes set. 

Rida rolled her eyes at the pair. She was barely any older then them, but at their tender age each year made a big difference. She was the only one who didn’t voice her guess yet, her eyes peeled as she studied her sister from every angle. 

The trio already owned the swords that they would be using in their adult life, but right now, they carried with them smaller versions of the lethal weapons, strapped to their belts. The uniforms they wore were a lot plainer then that of the Assassins within the League, featuring less armour and weapons. A simple black tunic fell to the middle of their thighs, held together by a thinner belt than the adults wore. They would be able to pick out their own attire when they reached the age of ten after carrying out their first assassinations, but for now, they were nothing but students. 

“Nine weapons,” Rida concluded, her voice confident. 

Slow clapping followed her words from the entrance to the room. Everyone turned to see Ibn standing by the door with a cold expression on his face. Imani had to keep her lips from rising into a snarl as he leveled the four of them with a condescending glare. 

“She has thirteen weapons on her,” the young man stated as he proceeded towards them with slow steps, his hands locked behind his back much in the same manner their father’s were at times. “Which ones did you miss? The daggers on her back or the knives she keeps pressed against her wrists? Not that it matters in any way, because the three of you would have been dead by this point already.” 

“OW!” 

The three youngsters didn’t see him move. In the next second the children found themselves lying on the floor, their breaths knocked out of them and their brother looming over them.

“This isn’t a game,” Ibn hissed, and the children flinched under his darkened gaze before he turned his attention over to Imani. “Maybe our dear sister wants to get all of you killed.” 

This time she couldn’t hold back the angered sound from leaving her lips. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

Ibn stepped closer to her, tilting his head down to meet her gaze. “ _Do_ you want to see them dead, Imani? It’s very like you to fight everything in your path. Maybe you have forgotten, but there is such as thing as discipline that, unlike you, the rest of us have to live with. And that is what is going to keep us alive,” he said harshly. 

“Don’t you dare say that to me,” she snarled at him, her voice rising as her hand itched to reach for one of her weapons. 

“Enough, both of you,” a stern voice came from the doorway and all turned to see their father walking in, followed closely by their mother and little Hatim. The five children straightened, the youngest three having risen to their feet by that stage, but Al Sah-him didn’t pause before taking his seat at the head of the table. 

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” he asked, lifting his gaze. “Sit.” 

Anisa was already helping three-year-old Hatim settle into his seat as the older children shuffled to the table. Imani ended up seated between Ibn and Majid while her sisters were on the other side of the table with their mother. The scowl didn’t leave her face as everyone piled their plates with food, quiet chatter making its appearance. 

“Tell us how you captured Jabir, Ibn,” Rida was the one to take the dive into the subject, excitement shining in her eyes as she reached for a bread roll. 

The young man paused for a moment, his eyes flickering over the table. As confident as he was, Ibn wasn’t used to being the centre of attention, at least not when it came to accomplishments. It was a recent development that he was actually allowed to complete work for the League and today was the first occasion on which he led others into the field. 

“Go on,” Al Sah-him urged in his usually calm manner. “It will be educational for all of your siblings to hear.” The man’s lips twitched up into the beginning of a smile, giving his son the extra assurance that he didn’t know he needed. 

The younger children listened with rapt attention to the tale, and it was only Imani who sat through the first part of the meal with a sour look on her face. Even Anisa wore a small smile as she listened. 

Her older brother was quick to soak in the praise of the youngsters and listened intently to the small pieces of advice for later occasions that the Demon offered. 

“Eat your vegetables,” Imani snapped lowly at Majid who was pushing the greens around his plate. The boy’s shoulders slumped, and his manner of playing with the food on his plate changed, though little vegetables made it into his mouth. 

The family meals were more grating on the eldest daughter then she would have liked to admit, and the fact that everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves made it worse. Everything was a lot simpler when it was just the four of them. Ibn kept his head down for the most part and their parents were more available. 

The girl’s blue eyes watched as her two sisters whispered to each other as they ate their food, as Hatim tried unsuccessfully not to make a mess of his dinner. The little boy looked determined as he leveled a large spoonful of mashed potatoes with his mouth, resulting in half of it being smudged over his face. Beside him sat their mother, her body turned towards her husband as she recounted something particularly interesting to him. The Demon watched and listened as he usually did, his head nodding slightly towards Anisa. Across from the Priestess set the heir, finishing his meal and turning his attention onto her. 

“So, do tell me what you did to Jabir today,” Ibn said as he dabbed a napkin against his lips. 

No one else was paying them any attention by that stage. “Why? Need a hand with your torture techniques?” 

His lips curled into a snarl, though he remained composed, his voice quiet. “We all have our talents. Some of us are better at doing the dirty work than others. No, what I wanted was to hear how easily he broke.” 

Imani’s hand curled into a fist, nails digging into her skin as the wish to reach for one of her many weapons grew stronger. She knew that she shouldn’t let him goad her on like this, knew that it was dangerous to have someone control you in such a fashion, but then the pair always had this weakness when it came to each other. They had a way of crawling under the other’s skin that couldn’t be matched by anything else. 

The girl was still angry with him for interrupting the little game she played with their younger siblings. That was where the first jibe had come from. The reasoning behind his actions couldn’t be more right, and that was what had made everything so much worse. Ibn never lacked for diplomatic skills, not when watched so closely by Ra’s himself. He had shown respect to their parents and kindness to the younger siblings, all but her. Imani would have been perfectly fine with that had the boy not found the need to harshly point out her mistakes, more so in the recent years, whenever he had the opportunity to do so. He spoke to her in a patronizing manner whenever he did so. And her own responses were fueled by the young woman’s love of chaos. 

“He hasn’t yet,” Imani finally replied as she speared a piece of broccoli onto her fork. 

“Oh?” The Heir to the Demon raised an eyebrow as he reached for his goblet. “That is quite surprising and I can’t tell whether it’s a feat of the man himself or a lapse on your part.”

Imani’s hand clutched hard around the knife on the table and she shot a glare at her brother that would have struck fear into the hearts of other Assassins, yet Ibn remained calm as he took a drink of water. A flurry of Mandarin lashed out of Imani’s mouth, every word sharp in meaning and in tone. A silence fell around the table, the children blinking up at her in confusion, her mother staring wide eyed, her father’s eyes narrowing slightly in warning, while Ibn coughed beside her. 

The girl couldn’t take any more of this. Swiftly she rose to her feet. “May I be excused?” 

“No. Sit.”

“And if I don’t?” 

The Demon’s eyebrow rose as he gazed at his daughter, his eyes darkened. “Then I will make you stand in one of the corners. Sit,” he repeated evenly. 

Imani’s cheeks reddened as humiliation washed over her. She lowered herself back into her seat, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Conversation resumed around her while the eldest daughter felt like shrinking deeper into herself. She played with the food on her plate, no longer hungry and when dinner was over she was more then ready to leave. 

“Imani, come with me,” Al Sah-him addressed his daughter again as he rose from the table. 

She supposed she should have been expecting that after her flippant behavior. The girl heaved a mental sigh as she rose herself and followed her father out of the room. They walked in silence side by side, the Demon’s hands locked behind his back as he lead her in the direction of the main training rooms. 

The young woman kept her head down, feeling the weight settle on her shoulders even without any reprimands from Al Sah-him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. It was…childish,” she finally said, grimacing at the last word. 

“Hmm, “ was the only sound that came from the Demon. The girl glanced up to see his face, finding a contemplative expression settled there. “That’s not the reason I called you out here, Imani. You are correct, however, the way you spoke to me was unacceptable. I will let it slide this once because there is a bigger issue at hand here.” The man’s voice turned grave and the pair came to stop. 

The blonde had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself standing still. The urge to squirm under the piercing gaze she knew too well was already strong. She lowered her eyes but his hand was at her chin then, his firm grip tilting her head back up. Harshness was evident in her father’s eyes as she met them again. 

“You are not a child anymore, Imani, yet you still fail to comprehend the need that we have for those around us,” Al Sah-him stated coldly. “You still find yourself relying on myself and your mother because you are not fully grown, but soon the day will come when you will be without that support and you will need others around you that you can trust just as much not to fail you.” His grip tightened for a moments to one that was almost painful before he let her go. “The person that you will be able to trust the most will be your brother.” 

Imani flinched at the last sentence, taking a step back. “No,” she said softly, shaking her head as if the words that he spoke couldn’t find a place to fit, because they didn’t fit. 

A gasp left her lips when the Demon’s hand shot up, gripping the top of her neck. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Would you like to repeat that, my daughter?” he hissed lowly at her.

The girl shook her head as best she could, fear shining in her eyes. 

“Your insolence has reached tremendous levels today. At six tomorrow morning you will report to the northern training room where you will remain for three hours, going through the paces given by the instructors there,” her father ordered lowly.

Imani’s eyes closed for a moment as dread settled heavily in her stomach after the proclamation of her punishment. “Yes, Father,” she managed to whisper. 

“Look at me.”

It took almost all of the girl’s willpower to meet his gaze again. Disobeying him in any way now would lead straight to catastrophe. 

“You still have a task ahead of you tonight. You will find your brother and you will apologise for what you said to him. You will beg for his forgiveness if you have to or I will place you under his command. If the two of you fail to learn to collaborate, I will have no choice but to rank you one above the other. Do you understand, my daughter?” Al Sah-him asked, command very evident in his voice. While he was ready to be more lenient when they exited the dining room, his patience had been worn thin by the girl before him. And he couldn’t allow her to step out of line so blatantly right before his eyes. 

So, he had given Imani her punishment as well as an ultimatum. The northern training room was mostly used by the newest recruits, and sometimes as punishment of young assassins. The instruction in that particular room focused on endurance, covered in short bursts, in order to condition assassins to be able to withstand great levels of pain while on mission and still being able to keep their focus and complete their tasks. It had become the most common form of punishment for Al Sah-him’s two eldest children in the recent years. 

“Yes, Father,” Imani’s voice trembled as she spoke, wanting nothing more than to step out of his hold. He released her finally and she bowed her head, as much in submission as in weakness. She couldn’t withstand his burning gaze anymore. 

Without a sound Ra’s left the girl in the middle of the corridor and once alone she leaned against the wall, heaving a few much needed breaths. She bit her lip and used the training that she had already to focus her mind as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. No, she wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Straightening up, Imani smoothed down her clothes before proceeding out of the corridor, a placid expression on her face. This evening was turning out far from what she wanted it to be like.

She headed in the direction of where the bedrooms of all of the children of the Demon were located. The corridor was quiet, lanterns illuminating her path. Imani meant to stop at the beginning of the corridor to gather her thoughts to face her brother without snapping at him again when she noticed that the door to his room was open. She blinked in confusion. The doors were never left open. 

Slowly, she proceeded forward to discover the room stripped completely bare. Now that she did not expect. Frowning, the girl took the few final steps to come to a stop in front of the sentry. There was always a guard positioned in the corridor as the last line of defenses to protect the young offspring of Ra’s al Ghul.

“What happened to Ibn’s room?” she inquired of the masked figure. 

“The Demon’s Son has relocated to the chambers of the Heir,” came the emotionless reply of the soldier, his eyes having not lowered to her for a brief moment. 

Imani’s features became stoic, her body achieving complete stillness for a moment before she turned away from the guard. It felt as if a bucket of scalding water had been dumped over her head, and the girl felt it on every inch of her being as she took slow measured steps away from the man who delivered the news. No, this couldn’t be real. None of it had been real until this point. They were just words, words that were used only because it was fitting. As the firstborn of Ra’s, Ibn had simply been the placeholder of the title of Heir. That title was as tentative as that of Ra’s al Ghul himself. Everyone who wanted to challenge the holder of said title could do so. The one that lived at the end of the duel that followed held the title. There was one clause, however, that allowed the firstborn child of the Demon some protection. The heir that had been sired by Ra’s himself could not be challenged in his right to call himself the Heir until his twentieth birthday. 

That was what allowed Imani to sleep peacefully at night. 

All rational thought had left the young woman by the time she reached the double doors of the opulent chambers. She didn’t waste any time, slamming them open and catching the attention of everyone within with her entrance. Ibn and Majid were settled on the thick rug by the fireplace, a chessboard between them. Besides the two brothers, there was a servant in the room, arranging the Heir’s weapons on the wall. 

It was certainly a step up from the quarters they were provided with as the children of Ra’s al Ghul. Each of them had their own small room with a single bed, chest of drawers, a desk along with a chair and a small bookcase. They were allowed little possessions of their own, with the exception of weaponry and armour. When it came to those, it was only the lack of space to store them that limited the youngsters in their ownership of such instruments, that and their ability to use and care for them. The weapons always held a place of honour in the rooms, placed on the wall opposite the bed. They drew the attention of all those who entered those living spaces. 

This room, however, was completely different. The various blades owned by Ibn had been arranged on walls opposite the door, red velvet curtains encompassing the space. A large four-poster bed stood against the left wall, facing the small balcony and to the right set the large fireplace. 

“We need to talk,” the girl hissed out, settling her eyes on her older brother. She didn’t mask the anger that was coursing through her. Her fists were clenched by her sides, her face reddening with the effort she was putting into not lashing out in that moment. 

Ibn lifted his head calmly where he lay on his side waiting for his brother to make his next move. His eyebrow rose ever so slightly, but the young man was much better at masking his anger at that moment than his sister. “Go on, Majid,” he said as he turned back towards the boy, inclining his head slightly. His voice was soft, too soft and Imani should have taken note of that, but she was too far gone in her own rage to notice. 

Majid remained still when the doors sprang open, evaluating the situation much better than his sister. The hairs on the back of his neck rose up the moment Ibn noticed the intrusion to his rooms, and Majid had to put an effort into not inching away from his brother. The air around them had chilled in seconds and upon hearing Ibn’s words, the boy shot up to his feet and exited the room without sparing another glance at either of his siblings. 

When the boy left, the Heir’s head turned in the direction of the servant who seemed to have taken the cue as well and bowed out before the explosion could be directed at him. 

Ibn rose to his full height as the door closed and the two were left alone, the expression on his face remaining placid. Imani couldn’t remember the last time she saw him standing so naked, so vulnerable before her, certainly not in the last five years. The young man’s body was only covered by the black shirt and pants that came under the standard League of Assassins uniform. His armored tunic had been draped over the wooden mannequin, placed in the room specifically for that purpose. The weapons that he usually carried on him sat on the table on the other side of the chamber. The girl had to bite her lip in order to contain the sudden wave of glee she felt. 

“Why did you come here, Imani?” he asked her softly and this time his sister finally took note of his anger. 

Her chin inched up slightly, a snarl curling her lips upward. He stood more than half a foot taller than her, with six feet of space between the pair. Her mind was already calculating all the possibilities of attack and the odds were stacked in her favour so much that that one of her hands curled around the hilt of a small knife she kept hidden at her waste. “I came to take a look at the son of the Demon.” 

Ibn’s head titled to the side, his eyes not having missed the movement of her hand. She was the only one who could call him that and make it sound like an insult. “What did Father say to you, Imani? Did he punish you? Did he put you back in your place? Are you angry because you get a break from being his favourite?” 

“I was never his favourite!” the blonde finally lashed out, the force of her voice hitting the stone walls and she had to put in more effort to keep herself still. 

“Who are you trying to fool with that?” her brother asked as he took a step towards her, his eyebrow rising once again. “Do you know how hard I had to work to get this?” he said, waving his hand around the room. “I thought I’d have this _years_ ago and realistically I should have had this two years ago.” His own expression threatened to become aggressive then, but in the next moment a genuine smile appeared on his lips. “Today, Father had officially recognized me as his heir with all the privileges and responsibilities of that position. So I will ask you again, Imani, what are you doing here?” 

A cry came from the girl then and in the next instant the knife was shooting through the air. The blade was caught in Ibn’s fist before it could impale itself in his chest. His expression darkened and he finally took the final steps to erase the remaining space left between them. Imani’s breath was knocked out of her as the older sibling pinned her against the wall, his strength lacking the restraint it should have had at that point. There was anger shining in his eyes that equaled his sister’s and when the knife was thrown, the last bits of control having vanished. 

They stood in silence for a few moments, Imani’s heavy breathing the only thing that perpetrated the room. And then she laughed. She laughed so hard her stomach hurt, the bitter sounds hitting the young Heir straight in the face, the kind of attack he was not prepared to take. “What are you going to do now?” she asked him with amusement, her voice quiet. “You can’t hurt me. Not now when you are the Heir truly. Father will have your head for that.” 

She saw his teeth grit together and his grip on her wrists tightened to a bruising hold. “What do you want?” he growled out at her. “Why did you come here?’ he demanded, his voice rising now. 

“I came here because Father ordered me to apologise for the way I spoke to you at dinner,” the blonde answered easily. “He demanded that I beg for your forgiveness. I suppose I can understand where he is coming from, more so now, with you being so grown up with official titles.”

Ibn lowered his head, anger climbing higher and higher within him with every moment. “Are you then? Going to apologise?” he managed to growl out.

“What’s the point?” Imani replied with a question, her voice losing the lightness completely as pure hatred seeped from her tone. 

The Heir lifted his head to meet her eyes, the intensity in their stares equally matched. “Go then,” he hissed at her, his grip squeezing even more until a groan of pain came from the girl. “Get out of my sight. Stay as far away as possible, because I promise you, sooner or later I will kill you,” he vowed, his voice becoming quiet. 

Imani bared her teeth at the threat, not one bit of fear registering in her mind. “Why wait until later then,” she whispered at him, unmoving. She did not care about the slight pain that he was inflicting on her body. There was nothing that her older brother could ever do or say that would make her fear him. “Why not tonight. I challenge you for the title of Heir to the Demon, Ibn al Ghul. Do you accept that challenge?” 

The hard loud words echoed in the chamber and the young man allowed them to linger in the air, for their meaning to seep into him before replying. “I accept your challenge, Imani al Ghul. We will meet at midnight in the central training room and end this once and for all.”

 

* * *

 

Not so long after, Ra’s al Ghul was preparing to retire for the night with his wife. 

“I was surprised you didn’t mention anything about Ibn’s ascension at dinner tonight,” Anisa said as she walked over to place her husband’s robe over the wooden mannequin that stood to the side. 

“The boy doesn’t need any more encouragement than he already received today,” Al Sah-him answered dryly. “He still bickers like a child with his sister. That’s the main reason I put it off as long as I have. Those two are like yin and yang and when they finally learn to cooperate they will be able to achieve a lot more then they ever could alone.” 

“How did your talk with Imani go?” the Priestess asked as she returned to stand in front of the man, undoing the buttons of his shirt. 

“Not well,” he replied coldly, some tension managing to leak through his tone before he shook his head. “I’d like to think that I had a level of understanding with her. Her rebellious nature is doing more harm than good.”

Anisa couldn’t help but smirk at that. “She is a teenager, Al Sah-him. I was like her when I was a teenager.” 

The man frowned down at his wife. “I’m sure as a teenager you didn’t go out looking to start lethal fights.” 

The woman bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. “Not exactly, but I was as stubborn and chaotic as she was. Speaking of stubbornness, can you please speak with Zakia? She does not seem to understand that it’s not suitable for her to tell the new recruits how much she loves the new method of torture she learned that day.” 

At that the Demon chuckled, amusement flashing in his eyes. “And why is that not suitable?” he asked his wife.

This time it was her turn to frown. “Because, Al Sah-him,” she regarded him with a small level of sternness. “Outside of these walls people would be very much disturbed if they heard such a young child go into such detail about maiming another person. I know they came here to learn a new way of life, but a line has to be drawn somewhere. They will never be able to achieve the mental strength that an Assassin needs if they are exposed to something so horrifying early on.” 

The Demon’s gaze hardened for a moment as he considered her words, before the man gave a sigh. “Very well, I shall speak with her tomorrow.” 

A smile brightened the woman’s face once again and she rose up on her toes to leave a small kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Is there a reason why you started sending me to speak to the always questioning children more these days?” Al Sah-him asked as his wife turned her back to him to put his pants away, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. 

“There are three of them now, Al Sah-him,” Anisa stated with amusement as she returned to him. “I didn’t think that it bothered you so much that they questioned you.”

“They are the only ones who are allowed to do so,” the man growled as he stepped forward to start undressing her. Early on in his journey into parenthood he had learnt that as the children transitioned from toddlerhood their independent thinking started to develop more and more. The questions came as a result of that. The Demon wouldn’t have batted an eye at that had they not started to unintentionally challenge him. What made the matter even more grating was that he knew that there was almost nothing that could be done about it. He couldn’t place blame on them for doing something that had such innocent roots, even if he wouldn’t tolerate it from any member of the League. 

Al Sah-him’s thoughts soon left his children, however, as he removed the layers of clothing covering his wife’s form, exposing it to the light. It didn’t look like the body of a woman in the middle of her fifth decade. Both of them had been taking regular soaks in the Lazarus Pit, taking their time to enjoy each other’s bodies while they did so. Their more promiscuous activities have lessened in number over the years, but in no way had they calmed. The heat was still there, the passion still coursed through their veins and Ra’s could still feel it pulsing through his every nerve every time they took their pleasure. 

The many births have also made their mark on the woman’s body. Al Sah-him’s fingers did not lose the habit of gently caressing the skin under which their tiny children first found their life. It was a habit that had come to sooth them both, even a while after their youngest son had been born. Anisa’s figure had filled out, but not by much. The blonde still took training in combat, one of the key reasons that allowed her to keep her agility and strength to this age. And over the years she had developed a fondness for the skills of an Assassin she was taught. 

“How long has it been since we got away from this place?” the Demon rumbled into his wife’s ear as he came to stand behind her naked form, his fingers stroking the skin above her waistline. “Just the two of us,” he continued, laying soft kisses on her shoulder, the burn of his stubble on her skin sweet and familiar. “We can go laze on our own beach with no one to bother us.”

Anisa relaxed into her husband’s frame, humming in agreement to his words as her eyes closed. “That sounds wonderfully tempting.” Her own hand found his cheek, cupping it softly before she turned her head to lay a kiss on his lips. It was a tender kiss, soft and unobtrusive that simply allowed the pair to feel each other’s presence. “But we can’t leave now. Najib isn’t back from his assignment yet and you said yourself, Ibn needs a lot more focus now as he takes on his new duties.”

The man frowned and leaned down for another kiss, nipping her lips lightly with his teeth, gently caressing them with his tongue. “In a week, then,” he growled quietly, pulling her closer to him. 

Anisa let her lips spread in a full grin as she pulled her head back slightly to gaze at her husband. Shortly after becoming Ra’s al Ghul he had actually gone so far as to buy an island off the Spanish coast, only for the two of them. Their visits there were rare, but spontaneous, with no one being the wiser as to when the pair might vanish from Nanda Parbat for a couple of days. The last visit took place more then a year ago, however. And the Priestess did miss the tranquility of not having anyone but Al Sah-him around. “In a week,” she promised softly, her thumb caressing his cheek. 

“Good,” he said, his voice turning rough as his own hand rose to her face, thumb gliding over her lower lip. “Come, let us go to bed, my Anisa,” he continued as he released the hold he had around her waist and guided the woman towards their spacious bed. With their arms intertwined around each other’s bodies the pair fell into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up finishing with a cliffhanger. Kind of. What is going to happen during the night? No one knows, only me :P
> 
> What I wanted to say, was that I didn't abandon the idea of doing little one shots focusing on the earlier stages of their relationship. I do still love the idea of doing them, they just don't fit into this particular fic. So after I post the second half of this chapter, I will start a separate fic. Most of it's chapters will have a much lighter mood than those in this story. 
> 
> Thank you for being patient :3 
> 
> What did you guys think? Let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Say hi to me on Tumblr
> 
> [theonlyoneofherkind](http://theonlyoneofherkind.tumblr.com)


	4. Eighteen Years: Part 2

They were awoken some time later by loud knocking on the door. Al Sah-him was first to wake, his mind conditioned to be on alert within moments of regaining consciousness. Carefully, he unwrapped his arm form around Anisa and shifted away from her as the woman rolled over, still half-asleep. The man rose to put on a robe to cover his naked body without a sound before proceeding to the door. 

The knocking hadn’t stopped by that point, which surprised him. His lieutenants often came to seek him during the night, they knew how much it took to get his attention while he was asleep. Something was wrong. With an angered frown Al Sah-him opened the door and slipped out of the room before closing it behind him again. Basir was the one who greeted him in the corridor. 

“What do you think-”

“My lord, it’s your children.”

This was not the man the Demon was used to seeing. His voice was higher then usual, there was a panic that he desperately tried to hide from his gaze. 

“We found them in the main training room, Ibn and Imani. One of the guards had wandered in that direction. That part of Nanda Parbat is completely empty at that part of night. If he didn’t….” at this point the soldier stopped, shaking his head as panic shined more clearly in his orbs. 

“Basir!” Al Sah-him snapped at him, his anger at the man growing by the moment. 

“They were dueling, my lord. They had been at it for a while. They _killed_ the guard, my lord. It was his absence from his post that alerted the others that something was wrong,” Basir continued, the words leaving his mouth rapidly as he shook his head. As he paused again, he raised his head to meet his leader’s eyes once again. “They almost killed each other, Al Sah-him,” he said quietly, letting the words hang in the air as he dragged them out. 

“Where are they?” the Demon ground out, his jaw clenched as white-hot anger build within his body. 

“In their chambers. Both of them are injured, but there is not fatal danger. They will be able to heal with time.”

“Summon them to the audience chamber,” Al Sah-him ordered coldly, his eyes closing, his hands clenching and unclenching. 

“But, my lord, they are hurt. They-“

“I DON’T CARE!” he roared, his voice carrying to the end of the hall. Basir had to take a step back from the sheer force of it as a child’s cry came moments later from down the corridor. 

The soldier did not say another word before bowing and hurrying away. 

The Demon bowed his head as he took a moment to regain control over his emotions. He didn’t think he ever felt as angry as he did then. Pure rage coursed through his veins and it was only a few minutes later that he was able to reenter the bedchamber again.

“Al Sah-him, what happened?” his wife’s soft voice came from the bed, rough from sleep. She had been shocked into full alertness by his yell and sat clutching the blanket to her chest. 

Ra’s didn’t turn to face her, stilling with his hands on the table that held his weapons. “I’m sorry for waking you,” he finally spoke, his voice quiet, measured. “Najib returned from his mission,” he lied easily. “He did not bring back the news that I was hoping for. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep, my Anisa,” he soothed her. There was no need to worry her now. He would tell her everything after he saw the children. 

The man dressed himself quickly in the same robes he wore that day, the black fabric embroidered with gold thread falling to his feet. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him as he stepped towards the door. Of course she knew something was wrong, she always knew. Still, she remained silent, laying back down as the silence filled the room. 

Al Sah-him waited for his children with his back to the door, his hands locked at the base of his spine. Minutes passed and finally he heard them. His head tilted to the side ever so slightly as he listened to the labored pain-filled breathing of the pair. They limped towards him, taking their time. There was a thud and a groan of pain as Ibn lowered himself onto his knees, taking a moment to regain his breath. His sister had joined him with less sound. Another minute passed as he let them wait, listening to their breathing and making his judgments on their physical states from that before he turned.

Al Sah-him’s eyes had darkened completely, his forehead smooth from any anger when he faced them. The two before him didn’t make a sound; their heads remained bowed as they waited. “Is this what you understand as an apology, my daughter?” he begun softly. A tremor ran through both their bodies at his voice. It was the same voice he used that afternoon when he addressed Jabir. Both of them remained silent as the Demon stood over them. 

“Look at me!” he boomed, and the two flinched before obeying. 

There was a long shallow cut on the right side of Imani’s face, one of the girl’s shoulders seemed to have been dislocated and popped back in place later by the medics, several bones on her wrist were broken, the skin of her hand almost black from the bruises. The other side of her body faired a little better. Bandages were wrapped around her middle where Ibn’s blade managed to slice through the skin and muscle of her back. Thankfully it had not damaged any organs in the process. The girl’s legs were fine, which could not be said for her brother. 

Imani’s dagger had been impaled in Ibn’s left thigh. The medics that saw to them had managed to stop the bleeding and had tightly bandaged the boy’s leg, though the strain of kneeling on it threatened to open the stitched up wound once again. Other then that, he had faired quite well. Ibn had always been more skilled in fighting than his sister, his precision working for him as it battled against her chaotic tendencies. There were bruises and shallow cuts scattered over his body, but nothing apart from the stab wound that would come close to slowing him down in a fight. 

“What do you propose to call this savage excuse of a fight?” the father asked, his gaze demanding an answer. 

“A duel,” Imani uttered weakly. 

Al Sah-him eyebrows shot up as he leveled the two with a chilling stare. “And what on Earth made the two of you think that you had any right to engage in a deadly duel?” he asked, his voice rising to a level of what could be considered annoyance in this situation if it still didn’t hold the sternness in it. 

“She was challenging my right to be your heir!”

Ibn didn’t see the back of the hand before it struck the right side of his face with the the strength of the Demon’s arm behind it, the signet ring that proclaimed his father’s position as Ra’s embedding into the soft skin of his cheek to leave a long lasting bruise behind. The boy toppled to the side, a howl of pain escaping his lips as he fell onto his injured leg. 

“Challenging _you_?” the Demon hissed out as he stood over his son who lay at his feet, the full extent of his anger coming through every word. “ For what? You have nothing, you are nothing, You have earned nothing. You are nothing but the son of Ra’s al Ghul with no right to call yourself a man. _Everything_ that you have I have given you, including the title that is not yours to protect!” 

A sneer curled the Demon’s lips, not satisfied one bit by the submission that he saw before him. His children had gone against everything that he had taught them and the wrath that he was unleashing on them now could not even begin to correct the two.

He turned towards his daughter, taking the few steps to stand in front of her. His finger was surprisingly gentle as he lifted her chin back up from when she lowered it after he backhanded her brother. “And you, my dear daughter,” the man spoke softly again. “You should have known better. You have seen with your own eyes that people have challenged me for my right to be the Demon’s Head over the years. And there have been fewer and fewer of them as time went on. I am very disappointed,” he continued quietly as his thumb rose to stroke over her cheek, “that you haven’t come to me with your displeasure. You know very well that I would have listened. While I would not have allowed you to challenge your brother at this point, I would have told you to wait and reminded you that you would have every right to do so when you are older.” He leaned in closer to the girl to gaze into her eyes. “When you grow up you will be one of the best warriors the world has ever seen and if should the desire arise to be the next Ra’s al Ghul you will know that you have all the skills you’d need to challenge anyone who would stand in your way.”

“Father!” 

The man straightened and turned his back to the pair as tears of anguish slid down his daughter’s cheeks. His words had hit her sharper than any slap would have. The room was filled with silence once again and Ibn took that time to kneel once again, desperate not to make a sound as blood began to seep through the bandages on his leg as well as from the newly cut lip. 

“It shames me to call you my children,” Al Sah-him stated somberly. 

The two didn’t say a word, their heads bowed once again, this time in shame and not in fear. 

“As for your punishment,” the Demon spoke quietly as he turned once again to face them. “You will be stripped of your title of my Heir, Ibn.” He turned to pierce the boy with his stare. “You didn’t even manage to hold on to it for twenty four hours,” he hissed, the true level of his anger showing itself in those words and his son flinched at that, his head lowering even further. 

Al Sah-him focused his gaze on both of them again. “I will be stripping that title not only from you, but from all of my children. And the blame for that lies only on your shoulders, Ibn.” Ra’s let the silence hang in the air for a few moments. “That is the extent of the punishment for the both of you for this duel,” he said softly. 

Both Imani and Ibn couldn’t help but fidget at those words, unsettled by what they heard. Their father wasn’t punishing them as his children who would be forgiven for their transgressions after a caning when they were younger. No, he was punishing them as members of the League of Assassins, as adults who were forced to face the real consequences of their actions. 

“And if I ever hear that either of you raised a weapon to harm the other again, you will be exiled from Nanda Parbat,” the Demon promised lowly. That was a kindness, because according to the laws of the League, any Assassin who dared to harm a member of Ra’s al Ghul’s family would find themselves facing the most excruciating death, even if they were a part of the Demon’s family themselves. 

“Yes, Father,” the pair managed to utter, their voices barely above a whisper. 

Without another word Al Sah-him left, his children’s postures sagging as some of the tension left them. 

He returned to his bedchambers quietly, his demeanor a lot calmer then it was when he left. The matter had been brought under control for the moment, even if there was still a long way to go to fix the underlying problem. 

The door was closed without a sound and the Demon was about to proceed to take his clothes off when his eyes caught sight of something unusual on the bed. Anisa wasn’t alone. Their youngest child, fourteen-month-old Sa’id was resting against her chest, both of them fast asleep. Al Sah-him’s yelling earlier that night would have woken the toddler up, he remembered the cry that came from the nursery. 

The man felt anger rise within him once again that night, this time directed at his wife. The emotions hit him one after another, each one powerful, coming like a wave. First was the anger, second was resignation and third was a deep seeded fear; the kind of fear he had never felt since becoming Ra’s al Ghul. Never once did the man take his eyes off his wife. His hands trembled as he looked at her angelic form. Her blonde hair was splayed out on her pillow, body covered by a silk robe and the babe resting on her chest. 

The boy could have been Ibn many years ago, and he could have been Imani. But he wasn’t, because Al Sah-him had forbidden such coddling after the children’s first birthdays. He had remained firm on that point over the years, but he had a suspicion over the last few years that whenever he was away from home children ended up in his bed anyway. He didn’t say a word because there was no real evidence of that fact, and he couldn’t bring himself to scold his wife when he wasn’t certain that she went against his word. Al Sah-him could only hold back a groan of frustration when he came to that conclusion, knowing that the woman he married was just as intelligent as him, if not more so. 

But he had the responsibility of looking at the bigger picture. It wasn’t until this moment, however, that he finally realized that he resigned a while ago. That was the only reason the boy was in the bed in the first place. 

Carefully, Al Sah-him lifted Sa’id out of his mother’s hold, making sure not to wake either in the process. He held the toddler against his own body as he made his way out the door and down the corridor to the nursery. He stood at the cot gazing down at his sleeping son long after he placed him down. The man’s fingers gently stroked the boy’s back as he slept. 

It has always been his goal to turn his children into killers. That is what he told Anisa on the night they were wed as he begged her to leave. But the woman stayed because of her immeasurable love for him and he had achieved his goal. Both Ibn and Imani, under his tutelage, had honed the skills that allowed the former to enter into the ranks of Assassins and the latter to be well on her way there. Their siblings would join the two in time. 

The expression on Al Sah-him face was solemn as he stepped back and exited the nursery. He returned to his own chambers, but couldn’t bring himself to lie beside his wife then. His eyes begged to glue themselves to her face as he thought, but he forced himself away. 

The Demon did not sleep a wink more that day and spent the rest of the night seated crossed legged in front of the fireplace, contemplating his thoughts. He could have fooled himself and said that the problems started nine years ago when he told Anisa that he loved her. But really, it was long before that point that his family life had been spiraling out of control. 

Anisa had signed her death sentence the moment she decided to make the Demon love her. 

He shouldn’t have let her stay, he shouldn’t have let her build the love that was now the foundation of their family. Al Sah-him had to hold back a bitter laugh so as not to wake the woman as the thought came to him. He bit his lip then as emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted to cry. 

He should never have let any of this happen. The best solution would have been to cast Anisa out the moment she married him. But he was too weak to do that, too selfish. The man that was Oliver Queen weeks before the wedding was still present within him at that time, even if he was just a ghost, ever fading. Al Sah-him had attributed that mistake to the fact that he hadn’t taken on his new identity fully at that stage, no matter how hard he pretended for everyone, including himself. 

Al Sah-him should have let Felicity Smoak go. He would have taken her across the world and made sure that she was safe from the League. Then, he would have married another woman, this time one who already swore her allegiance to the Demon. And they would only have duty between them. They would have had no more then two children and those children would have been trained to become some of the best soldiers, and they would have known their duty to their parents as well as to each other. They would never have ended up in the position they were in now. 

A hiss left Ra’s lips, the man unable to keep all of his emotions in. Pain was settling on his shoulders and with each hour it became stronger. Every part of his being knew that there was only one way to end this, to restore the peace within his own family. 

One could never make a true family out of killers, and that is what his wife had been doing over the last eighteen years. It was one of the lessons the previous Ra’s had taught him as he was getting ready for the matrimony. Only duty could characterize the union he was about to enter. When something else was present, affection or even love, every person within such a family became more humane, more attuned with their emotions and less focused on their responsibilities. As a result of these emotions, personal desires rose to the top, desires that had little logical judgment behind them, the kind of desires that drove people to go against every rule they were taught in order to fulfill one’s dreams. 

Independence was not something anyone could afford much of within the League. When lost souls came to Nanda Parbat, they swore to give their lives for Ra’s al Ghul. They were his soldiers and their purpose was to serve him unquestioningly. There were no emotions involved in that, except fear. There was only fealty. And it shouldn’t have been any different for the soldiers that were sired by the Demon himself. That was how it had worked for centuries, and during that time, the children of Ra’s al Ghul have etched their names into the history annals as some of the best warriors. 

That is what Al Sah-him wanted his children to do as well. He had trained them to fight from a very young age. He had conditioned their minds and their bodies so that by the age of ten they had no qualms about taking the first life with their own hands. They had been perfect. And the eldest two were the first to know that something was not as it should be. 

Ra’s had always been an observant man. He didn’t miss their quietness during the times the family spent together as their siblings talked and played with each other. He didn’t miss the uncomfortable looks and their inability to fit in, especially Ibn’s. Because despite of what Al Sah-him tried to convince himself of, those two were raised differently. A lot has changed since he professed his love to Anisa. He had let himself feel, and that perhaps, was the biggest mistake of his life.

He still taught the children, the younger and the older, the art of becoming great warriors. He hadn’t let himself become more lenient with them because he knew that it could get them killed later on in life. But he had managed to develop a feeling of warmth towards them, a kind of attachment that was hard to characterize at first. And that was the heart of the problem. Al Sah-him allowed his children to seek his recognition. The rivalries that followed were the direct result. And when such attention-seeking teenagers were armed with lethal weapons disaster was not too far behind. 

The Demon exhaled hard as dawn broke. He sat still, as he had been doing for hours. His sword lay on the floor right before him, unsheathed. There was only one way to end this. He had to kill the woman he loved. 

He didn’t have to wait much longer. Anisa rose before an hour passed. Al Sah-him didn’t turn as he heard her moving on the bed, stretching. He didn’t speak when she called his name in a soft groggy voice, only bowing his head further. It was getting harder to stop the trembling now. 

“Al Sah-him, what happened last night,” the blonde asked, worry very apparent in her voice as she gently rested a hand on his shoulder. 

“They tried to kill each other, Anisa,” he finally spoke, broken out of his meditative state by her touch. His voice sounded weak, vulnerable, so very uncharacteristic of the man the Priestess knew. 

“Al Sah-him,” she repeated his name once again, her voice somehow managing to become even softer as she knelt behind him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leaned her body against his wide back. “Who tried to kill each other?” 

“Ibn and Imani.” 

The Demon felt as her frame became completely motionless behind him. “Are they alright?” she managed to breathe out, voice trembling. 

“Yes, injured, but yes, they will heal.” 

Anisa’s body sagged against his more, his frame completely supporting her weight. 

“There is no room for love in a family of killers, Anisa,” Ra’s stated lowly, his voice gaining some strength as his eyes darkened. 

“What are you saying, Al Sah-him?” his wife asked, her head turning to better see his face, a frown resting on her forehead. 

“I am saying that there is only one way to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” he explained, the pain in his voice clouded by coldness. Al Sah-him raised his head but didn’t meet her gaze. That’s when she saw the first tears fall from his eyes. “I can’t,” he said, his voice trembling. “I can’t let them die, Anisa. Not like this. Not when they are so young. Not by each other’s hands.” The truth of the matter was that he loved his children and would have given up his own life if it meant saving theirs. And that was what was going to haunt him to end of his days. The Head of the Demon was not supposed to love. He could have killed them, he should have. According to the laws of the League that was his duty. Ibn and Imani have committed treason by threatening the life of a member of the Demon’s family. The fact that they themselves were members of the family did not exclude them from the law that governed the entire League. But he had been too weak to do that. And the choice he was making now was the only possible alternative. He had to mend his broken family. 

Al Sah-him felt more then he saw her move. In a few moments she was in front of him, her hands coming to cup his face gently. “Oliver,” she whispered and he knew that she understood him. “Just promise me one thing,” Anisa continued, her voice soft but steady as tears fell down her own cheeks. She cradled his face in her palms like it was the most precious thing in the world and the man had to resist the urge to close his eyes and lean into her touch. “Promise me to keep our children safe.” 

“I promise,” he managed to rasp out, his voice hoarse from his own tears. He held her gaze as tears slipped down their faces, his eyes giving her the pledge that words never could. The gratefulness that shined in the blue orbs was nothing like Anisa had ever seen before. She leaned in, placing her lips atop oh his, and the pair held their breaths as they enjoyed their last kiss. Their mouths didn’t move, they simply felt the closeness of one another, the man’s hand coming up to cup the side of his wife’s face. 

“I love you,” she said as she pulled back, her voice trembling now, the torrent of tears becoming stronger. “I always will.” 

And with his face twisted in excruciating pain Al Sah-him plunged his sword through his beloved’s chest.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks have passed since the death of Anisa al Ghul. Nanda Parbat was not accustomed to mourning, but the passing of the Priestess of Life was where an exception could be made. She was the woman that represented a single ray of light in the world of darkness for everyone within these walls. She was there to remind them that Life was a gift, a reminder that the Assassins dearly needed after extinguishing so many lives with their own hands. 

Everyone knew how she died, but no one dared to say a word and that information stayed within the League. Questioning the actions of Ra’s al Ghul could end one’s life and the man himself seemed to have gained a new level of cruelty in the weeks that followed. 

He was in pain, those who knew him could see that. He fueled that pain into his work, separating himself from his children for the time being. A woman was chosen for the position of the temporary Priestess of Life from those who worked most closely with Anisa. It was very unusual for the Priestess to die before her husband did, nevertheless it was not the first time it had occurred in the history of Nanda Parbat. Al Sah-him would be expected to remarry, but not right now. He could take his time. The Demon did not expect to marry a second time within the next ten years. He had seven children to raise and he planned on doing so on his own. 

Ra’s stood silent, unnoticed by anyone in the room as he watched three of them. Rida, Zakia and Majid were practicing with batons, their instructor stood to the side, shouting out instructions over the clamor of their fight. Al Sah-him hadn’t said a word to the three after he gathered the six eldest children to inform them of their mother’s death. The man left them to the attention of their carers and teachers and medics in Ibn’s and Imani’s cases. Everything about the family had to be changed and he was afraid if he proceeded with those changes before he was ready he would end up hurting the children. 

Al Sah-him didn’t want to hurt them, not any more then he already had by taking their mother from them. But the inevitability of that only made itself known more and more as days turned into weeks. No Assassin could be born without pain and becoming Assassins was the only option available to his children. Especially the older ones. They did not know another way of life. 

“Hold!” 

The Demon’s command echoed through the high ceilinged chamber, all activity stopping, the children straightening as their heads turned in surprise to where the man was coming out of the shadows. 

“Father!” Majid was the one who spoke, unable to contain his surprise after not seeing a glimpse of the man for so long. The expressions on all their faces were somber as he came to a stop in front of them, his brow lowered slightly as he scrutinized them with his sharp gaze. 

“Your instructors tell me that your work has not been up to the usual standards,” he spoke sternly, his dark gaze making them squirm. Good. “It appears that your current training regiment needs improvement. An extra hour each day in the training room should be sufficient,” he stated calmly. “See to it that I do not hear any more complaints from your teachers.” And with that the man turned to head out of the room. 

“Why!” 

Al Sah-him was halfway to the door when Rida voiced her displeasure. 

“Two hours,” was his simple reply, a note of warning in his voice. The man resumed his steps again, walking out of the room without another interruption. 

It was a harsh adjustment to their training but it had to be done. No matter their grief, they had a long road to walk to become what they needed to be, and he couldn’t have them questioning him anymore.

 

* * *

 

Al Sah-him sat crossed legged in another training room while Hatim stood beside him, his hand slapping against the water in the wooden bowl in front of him. The atmosphere in this room was quite dissimilar to where the boy’s older siblings trained. A tranquil silence filled the space, broken only by the slapping sound, and occasionally the pouring of water as the Demon refilled the basin. 

There was a deep frown on the little boy’s face and it didn’t lessen in intensity as he worked. His mother’s death had hit him harder than his older siblings. That was understandable. Al Sah-him was hoping that this training activity would help Hatim regain control over his raging emotions.

They had been at it for some time now. Occasionally the boy would stop, only resuming after his father’s quiet, calm command. 

“Again,” Al Sah-him said as the boy’s arm fell to his side. 

“Again,” he repeated the word, this time with more force, as Hatim remained unmoving. 

Nothing happened. 

“Again!” 

“No!” Hatim’s arms shot up, pushing the bowl off the low table onto the floor with enough force to make the wood clang against the stone. The water spilled across the room, some trickling into the Demon’s robes, his expression hardening considerably as he turned his eyes back to the boy, only to pause for a moment. 

There was more than defiance that he saw there. The rage that dominated over all the other emotions did not belong on a face thit young, and at that moment it was directed straight at him. 

“Would you like to say something to me, my son?” Al Sah-him asked lowly, the tension building exponentially in the air. He saw the way the boy’s fists twisted at his sides, the way his jaw was clamped shut as if he was trying his hardest to hold in the words that desperately wanted to escape. His father’s question was what broke through his restraint. 

“Why did you do it?” Hatim yelled, blood rushing to his face. “Why did you kill her? She loved you!” 

The Demon tilted his head to the side as he contemplated the question for a moment. “That is precisely why I killed her, my son,” he answered calmly, making the boy flinch back at the words. “We are killers, Hatim. We cannot afford to love. Love will only lead us to our deaths.” 

He let the silence hold for some moments, watching as the words sank into the boy as much as they could. Hatim was too young for this, but he needed answers and he had asked for them. He would be the only person who would do so, who wouldn’t be too afraid, because his confusion was greater than his fear at the moment. 

“Now,” the Demon continued, his voice turning hard. “You, my son, have earned yourself a spanking. I understand where your anger is coming from, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate such behavior.” 

Without another word, he pulled the boy to him and over his knee. Hatim’s cries were anguished, and Al Sah-him felt his heart twist as the boy sobbed, his wails magnified by his emotional pain. When it was done, he let the boy rest. Hatim continued to sob even after the punishment. The Demon was surprised how little it took to get him to this point. The pain must have broken through the emotions Hatim was holding back for these weeks. Al Sah-him stroked the boy’s back as the youngster curled his body after rolling to his side on his father’s lap. 

Finally, the crying stopped, only little sniffling remaining in its place as Hatim rubbed the tears from his cheeks. 

“Better?” his father asked softly, hand coming to rest on his back. 

The boy nodded. His gaze had cleared somewhat, not completely, but there was definitely an improvement from before. 

Al Sah-him wrapped his arms around his son and lifted him back to his feet, making sure that he could support his weight before letting go. Calmly, he replaced the bowl back on the table and filled it with water once again. 

“Again,” he ordered evenly.

And Hatim obeyed.

 

* * *

 

The nursery was next. The sun was still shining in the late afternoon when he proceeded to visit his youngest child. 

“Mama?”

The toddler’s head shot up as the door was opened, his face filling with disappointment when someone other than his mother entered the room. 

“Leave us,” Al Sah-him told his nurse quietly as he proceeded to join his son on the floor. Sa’id was playing with soft blocks in the middle of the room, stacking them one atop another. 

“Mama?” 

He had been receiving regular reports on the states of his children over the past three weeks from the people who cared for them. This behavior had started approximately twenty-four hours after Anisa’s passing. The boy would look at the door any time he heard the barest of scrapes come from it, hoping to see his mother. His sleep had become restless and his nurse had to go to a lot of trouble to get a sufficient amount of food into him. 

“I’m sorry, little one. You still need your mother, I know,” Al Sah-him spoke solemnly, his voice soft as he let some of the pain show on his face, the pain that he hid from the rest of his children. 

“Mama.” 

Sa’id hadn’t appeared to notice at all that his father didn’t visit him in the past few weeks. To be true, when everything was running smoothly, the Demon didn’t find himself in the nursery often to begin with. And that was not going to change under the current circumstances. 

“I needed to do it for your older siblings. I know that you would have had a chance, and maybe even Hatim, but the older ones wouldn’t have made it,” the Demon continued, a vulnerability sinking into his voice that he never allowed himself. Normally, Anisa was the only person who could see him like that, but she wasn’t here anymore and the boy was too young to understand what he was saying. He supposed it was cruel to unload some of his emotions onto the toddler like that, but both shared a profound connection with the woman they just lost. And just for a few minutes, Al Sah-him let himself be honest with his youngest child. 

“Mama.” 

“They would have ended up slaughtering each other. That’s what happens when you raise children in such a dichotomy. I know it’s my fault, I should have seen it from the start. I should have never told your mother that I loved her,” the man said, a pained smile sliding onto his lips. 

“MAMA!” Sa’id yelled, throwing one of the soft cubes at his father, apparently having had enough of the man’s painful words. “MAMA!” he continued to scream and didn’t stop. 

The Demon swiftly rose to his feet, picking up his son in a firm hold. He turned and placed the boy in his cot before heading out of the door with quick steps, Sa’id’s continued screaming, demands for his mother echoing in his head even as he walked out of earshot of the nursery. 

The boy had managed to strike at Al Sah-him own deep internal wound and when he reached his personal training room he let a roar rip through his chest as he picked up several knives in his hands and threw them at the targets at the other end of the room. The sheer force behind them threatened to break the hilts off the blades as they hit the target with perfect precision. 

The Demon heaved a sigh and lowered his head. He needed to get a hold of his emotions if he was ever planning to see this through to the end, to make sure that his children lived. 

He spent five hours in there, in his own private space, working the anger off himself. Sweat was falling of his naked chest in sheets by the time he put his weapons away, still breathing hard. He still had two more children to see to that day.

 

* * *

 

Considerably calmed, the Demon proceeded down to the dungeons. Two guards stood at the end of the hall, making sure that the newest recruits didn’t run from their initiation conditioning. Not that they could, being locked in chains and having paid a high price to be able to train under Ra’s al Ghul.

He proceeded down the corridor to one of the cells, nodding towards the guard to unlock the door. Inside he found his two eldest children. The pair had been there for two days already, but it was the first time he actually came to pay them a visit. 

Ibn and Imani’s hands were shackled against the wall, leaving standing as the only position available. Their feet were bare, as were their upper bodies with only a piece of black fabric wrapped around Imani’s chest. The injuries from their lethal duel had been allowed to heal before they were brought down to the torture chambers. 

The two of them were too old and well trained for Al Sah-him to have any hope to break them of their old mentality slowly as he was doing with their three younger siblings. He didn’t worry about the two youngest sons, barely anything had changed in their routines. He didn’t have a cause for worry when it came to them, not in the matter that struck fear in his heart on the night everything changed. 

When it came to Ibn and Imani, drastic measures had to be taken. He planned to put them through an altered process of the initiation training. Already, the two had been trained on withstanding torture, making his job all that much harder. He was the one who gave them that training, however. He knew their strengths and their weaknesses. 

Al Sah-him would need to break them and build them up again, shattering the notion of love in the process. It was the love in the family, his love towards them that made them seek out more, to make the mistake that endangered their lives. It clouded their judgments when it came to their duties and allowed the birth of the selfishness that nearly led to their demise. 

The only thing that allowed Ra’s to hope to get through to them was the fact that before their siblings were born, they were not raised in a true family. They were taught their duties and conditioned to obey with the main purpose of that obedience being for the good of the League. 

Now though, even after he gave Ibn the title of Heir, he knew that he could not ask his daughter to obey her brother. And he didn’t plan to, his mind choosing to forget the fact that by that stage he should have done so without any problems, without any resistance on Imani’s part. 

And yet, his own mind remained clouded by love, making his children suffer around him. _If you teach a child how to kill, you can only allow them to respect and fear you. If love is permitted to grow in such an environment you will all be doomed._ The words of the previous Ra’s had been resonating in his mind for the past three weeks. 

The League of Assassins were the best and most ruthless of killers in the entire world, and they had held that title for centuries. What allowed them to stay such was the cold detachment they had for each other. The most commemorated children of the leaders of the League have been those who were willing to go far beyond any point a normal person would ever consider, be that because of their physical abilities, endurance, or the lack of attachments to those around them. Unlike to the outsiders, in the League the process always started with weighing out how important the achievement of their task was compared to the extent they would have to go to to save the life of a fellow Assassin. Because at the end of the day, each Assassin was on their own, including those that carried the name of al Ghul. To expect anything from your fellow Assassins other than obedience of the ones ranked under you would have been the biggest mistake of one’s short life. 

Both Ibn and Imani knew that, but somewhere along the line, Al Sah-him made them believe that that fact no longer applied to them. It was going to get them killed if he continued to allow it. 

“Father,” Ibn’s weak voice came from the wall as the Demon was examining the selection of weapons ready for his use. He looked up at his son, raising an eyebrow slightly as he waited for him to speak.

“I’m sorry.” 

Their gazes met and Al Sah-him had to hold back a genuine smile as pride began to slowly burn somewhere within his hardened heart. 

It was not forgiveness that his son was seeking. He simply wanted to communicate that he understood. Ibn had accepted his fate and was ready to atone for his mistakes, and in that moment that was worth more to his father than anything else.

“Thank you, my son,” Al Sah-him said quietly as he stepped towards the pair. He could see fear in his daughter’s eyes, while her brother’s gaze only contained dread. “Before I took your mother’s life I promised her that I would do whatever it took to keep you alive.”

Imani’s breath hitched at that and than her nose flared in anger, tears sliding down her cheeks as she leaned her head back. 

“Do you have something to say, Imani?” the Demon asked, turning his gaze towards her.

“No, Father,” she managed to reply, not meeting his eyes, her voice between a hiss and a whisper. He could see the defiance in her very posture and she was doing nothing to hide it. Unlike her brother, the girl was never good at following orders. Perhaps he would break her of that habit too. 

“Very well. We shall begin then,” Al Sah-him stated quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading this story. It has been quite a journey. I didn't know how I was going to end this fic until after I wrote the second chapter, and at that point it just seemed to flow naturally in this direction. I tried to stick to the image of the League offered by the show itself and hopefully I succeeded in doing that. There is a reason that Arrow didn't go further into the League than it did. There is nothing but pain offered there. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and all the support you have shown over the past month. It really means a lot to me. 
> 
> What did you guys think? Let me know in the comments. 
> 
> I will also be starting another fic in this AU, outlining some moments in the life of the al Ghul family that occurred before the third chapter. It will be up sometimes soon, though I don't know when exactly. Let me know if there is anything specific you want to see in the second fic in the comments. 
> 
> Say hi to me on Tumblr
> 
> [theonlyoneofherkind](http://theonlyoneofherkind.tumblr.com)


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